#Rafe Cameron blurb

[rafesangelita]

i feel like rafe has a major housewife kink

warnings: mentions of traditional stuff (just for the sake of the kink, please don’t stone me ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১), rafe is kinda misogynistic, fingering, slight dacryphilia, unprotected sex, rough sex, headlock, reader is too fucked out to think about anything else, degradation, slapping, dirty talk, hair pulling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, baby tapping threats

“i can’t— oh my, god. rafe!” your eyes fluttered shut for what felt like the hundredth time already, your thighs trembling as both pleasure and pain wracked through your body. rafe had no regard, nor did he care about this being your fourth orgasm as he rubbed your clit into overstimulation like his life depended on it. “yes, you fucking can,” he grunted, forcing your thighs open as they threatened to shut around his hand, “m’gonna keep you cumming until i see tears running down those cheeks.” you cried out at his words, your back arching into his chest at the overwhelming sensation.

rafe hadn’t even fucked you yet, and you were already on the verge of tapping out. flipping you over, rafe snaked an arm underneath your tummy before pulling you up, wasting no time in pressing your face into his pillows. stroking the small of your back, rafe groaned at the sight. he could see the body glitter on your skin, the little specs glinting underneath the dim lighting of his room. “fuck, i wish you would just let me have you already.. i’d make sure to slut you out every single day.” you whimpered when he delivered a harsh smack to the globe of your ass. “you just don’t know,” his aching tip prodded at your entrance, “i’d make sure you’d never have to lift a finger ever again.”

wrapping your hair around his fist, rafe slid into you without warning, drawing a shriek to leave your lips. “you shouldn’t be working in that fucking club,” he said through gritted teeth, “you should be here with me, letting me take care of you. i’ll come home and you’ll be waiting for me with a hot plate,” leaning down, rafe yanked your head back so his mouth was next to your ear, “you’ll keep this place spotless and i’ll buy you whatever the fuck you want,” just then, he wrapped a bicep around your neck, your chin tucked between the crease of his elbow and his forearm, “fuck you however you want.”

rafe’s words were punctuated by his thrusts, your acrylics scratching at his skin as you held onto him for dear life. “just picture that; me using you for all that you’re good for.” maybe it was because everyone who knew you, especially your girlfriends at the club, knew you wouldn’t be settling down anytime soon, or at all for that matter, but the idea of locking you away in tanneyhill and never going anywhere without you hanging off of his arm, making you fully reliant on him, financially and emotionally, it turned him on beyond words could describe. “you don’t even know what i’m saying,” he laughed, “you’re too cock drunk to understand.”

you whimpered pathetically, tears running down your face as he planted a slap to your cheek. “gonna fill up this cunt and trap you, maybe then you’ll understand what i’m saying when i put my baby inside of you.”

[cherrygirlfriend]

── SHARING HOODIES ♡

♡ pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader

♡ summary: rafe comes to get you from a party.

♡ warnings / tags: fluff! somewhat nsfw, nudity, annoying m*n.

♡ author's note: inspired by @tinythebunni ‘s request for a reader who wears something skimpy and needs to borrow rafe’s clothes. i hope you like this!! <3 check this if you want to see what she’d wear to a party!

PERV MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

"aw, come on rafe!" elijah's voice groaned in rafe's headset, "you suck ass tonight, man. what's the problem?" rafe rolled his eyes as he queued his group for another game, "it's cause his little girlfriend isn't there to support him under the desk." josh snickered.

"shut the hell up, josh." rafe spoke with slight irritation, "at least i have a girlfriend. your longest relationship has been with your right hand." "that's where you're wrong, buddy. i'm a leftie."

they soon started a new game, but when they were halfway through the second round, rafe saw his phone screen start to flash on his desk with an incoming call, the screen displaying your name and a heart after it. rafe was quick to mute his mic and place his headset onto the desk, pressing the green button and putting you on speakerphone as he continued playing. "everything alright?"

"hiiii pumpkin pieeee!" you giggled on the phone, music blasting in the background along with the chatter of other people. rafe chuckled softly; he had known that you'd be going to a party tonight; after all, you'd gotten ready in his room and had tried to convince him to come with you.

"hey, lovebug. i take it you're drunk?" "nooo, i'm just a liiiittle tipsy." you said, and rafe could hear you slurp up a drink and swallow after finishing your sentence, "i'm sure, i'm sure."

"can you come n get me?" you slurred, "'m tired n can't... can't, uh, remember where my dorm is..." "yeah, of course. you're at sigma nu, right?" "mmhm..." "okay, i'll be there in fifteen. go find some water and one of your friends. got it?" "yessir." you snorted, and he hung up the phone and put his headset back on, unmuting himself.

"listen, guys, i'm gonna have to quit." rafe explained as he closed the game mid-match. "what? why the hell?" elijah questioned, "my girl called and asked me to come get her from a party." "damn, i thought it was bros before hoes." josh snarked.

"yeah, well, we're not fifteen anymore. and she's not a hoe, she's my girlfriend. i'll message you guys later." rafe didn't even wait for them to reply, getting off the call and turning off his computer before either boy could utter a syllable. the boy grabbed his things and pulled on his hoodie, quickly rushing out of his dorm.

as soon rafe was outside, he dialed your number, his shoes crunching against the gravel as he walked towards the location of the fraternity you'd told him you were at, but no matter how many rings he waited, you didn't answer.

rafe ran a hand through his sandy hair, hanging up and calling you again. ring, ring, ring, ring, ring... once again, no answer. he bit the inside of his cheek, picking up his pace as he once again tried calling you, to no avail.

once the fraternity house came to view, rafe pocketed his phone, the boom of the bass piercing through his eardrums as soon as he entered the building.

rafe wasn't like you. while you thrived in these environments, huge parties where there were people every corner you turned, floors sticky with booze and other liquids, one sweaty young adult pressing against another, smoke that smelled like cotton candy, music so loud it'd damage anyone's hearing in the long term… rafe had always hated parties.

however rafe's height was an advantage; at 6'2, he was among the tallest at the party, and he hoped it wouldn't be too hard to spot you, his heart beginning to race from worry; what if something had happened to you?

he walked around the living room and even tried calling out your name, but the music booming in the stereos obviously was loud enough to drown out every squeak of his voice, but as he looked around, he didn't seem to spot you.

rafe pulled out his phone and dialed your number once again and kept searching through the living room for anyone who looked familiar, almost unable to hear the rings that signified an outgoing call over the noise of the TOP 50 playlist currently playing.

he went back into the lobby, but just as rafe was about to start really panicking, he saw a familiar figure through the wide archway leading to the kitchen, wearing the same outfit you'd shown off for him in an attempt to convince him to come with you. but his relief was shortlived when he saw the way you were swaying on your feet, the glassiness in your eyes made more pronounced by the fluorescent light above you, rafe's jaw clenching almost out of reflex when he saw the guy chatting you up, his hand on your bare arm. rafe took a deep breath as he made his way to the kitchen, beelining straight to you.

"are you okay?" rafe leaned down slightly to look into your glassy eyes, tugging the stranger's hand off you in a less-than friendly manner. "hey dude, i was here first. go find some other chick." the stranger scoffed, making rafe straighten up and look at him in irritation, narrowing his eyes at the other boy.

"hey dude, keep your hands off girls who are too drunk to even stand properly. this is my girlfriend." "that's your girlfriend?" the stranger let out something between an incredulous scoff and a snort, while rafe simply ignored him, more worried about you. "buggy, are you okay?" he asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"you came." you smiled up at him softly, letting yourself practically crash into your boyfriend's side, "this douche is bothering me..." you mumbled, making rafe chuckle softly as he snaked his arm around you. the other guy simply rolled his eyes and mumbled some insult under his breath as he started walking away. "let's get you home, yeah?" rafe wasn't even sure if you heard what he was saying, but you simply smiled and nodded nonetheless.

rafe's arm was tightly wrapped around you as he led you out of the loud frat house and into the cool night air, starting to walk back towards the dormitories. he was too focused on trying to get you back to the dorms to notice the way your teeth were starting to chatter and the way your skin was forming goosebumps until you let out a quiet mumble, "rafeyyy... 'm cold..."

his eyes widened as he looked down at you, clad only in a top and a miniskirt. rafe sighed as he detached from you, a childish whine leaving your lips, thinking he did it because he didn't want to hold onto you anymore. rafe's t-shirt rode up slightly and his hair got messed up when he took off his snoopy-themed hoodie, turning to you, "lift your arms up, buggy."

you did as he said, and your boyfriend pulled the hoodie onto you, basically having to guide your arms into the arm holes of the hoodie, but when you finally had the hoodie on, rafe let out a small chuckle as he looked you up and down. for some reason, seeing you wearing his clothes always managed to make your boyfriend's heart race like crazy, even if it was something as silly as a snoopy hoodie.

"what's so funny?" you pouted, the hood still over your head, "nothing." he shrugged, wrapping his arm around you once again and starting to lead you towards the dorms, "it's just that... the hoodie is longer than your skirt."

"it's your fault for being freakishly tall, you damn beanstalk." you mumbled as you leaned into him. "or your skirts are freakishly short..." "prude." you stuck your tongue out at him, "acting like you weren't admiring the way i looked in this before i left." rafe felt his cheeks warm at your words, letting out an incredulous scoff as you simply giggled as he continued leading you towards the dormitory.

after about ten minutes of you wobbling and putting most of your weight on the side that was pressed against rafe, the two of you finally arrived at the boys' dormitory, "alright, try and be quiet." rafe said to you, rubbing his hand up and down your hoodie-clad arm. you simply responded by bringing your pointer finger to your lips and hushing, rafe unable to help the small smile on his face from how adorable he found it.

once you got to rafe's room, your boyfriend helped you to his bed where you immediately collapsed onto the mattress, letting out a moan of relief, making rafe feel slightly ashamed for the stirring he felt in his pants. he cleared his throat as he walked to the bed, "baby, you should take your clothes off first." "can't you do it…?" you mumbled, "are you sure?" "'s not the first time you've seen me naked, rafe."

rafe started with your heels, carefully peeling them from your feet, pressing a few kisses on each leg as he removed them. then he moved up onto the bed, lifting the hem of the hoodie as his long fingers slowly pulled down the zipper on your skirt, shimmying the fabric off, slight indents left on your stomach. rafe pressed soft kisses on each of your thighs, soft hums leaving your lips. "lift your arms up, love." he mumbled softly, and you did as he said; at once rafe pulled the hoodie off along with your top, throwing them onto the floor.

rafe trailed warm kisses leading from the waistband of your panties up to the underwire of your bra, before pulling back, "can i take this off?" he asked softly, and you nodded. rafe's hands slowly slid from the front of your bra to the back, until he found the clasp. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when you felt the clasp come free, allowing rafe to slide the straps down your arms and discard your bra.

rafe's hands softly massaged the indents of the underwire, pulling a sigh of relief from you, "do you want to borrow a shirt from me to sleep in?" he asked softly, but you shook your head and spoke softly, "can we just sleep like this? both of us?"

rafe's cheeks reddened slightly, but he nodded and tugged his shirt off, throwing it amongst your clothing. he then continued on to pull down the waistband of his sweats, kicking them off onto the floor and settling into bed.

you pulled the covers over both your heads with a quiet, mischievous chuckle, looking into his eyes, "does my breath stink?" "like a brewery." rafe said softly, and despite his words, he still brought his lips to yours, your bare chest pressed against his, rafe's hand sliding down to your back.

as he pulled away from the kiss, rafe trailed his finger up and down your spine, goosebumps forming on your sensitive skin. you nuzzled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his chest on your face, the two of you whispering sweet nothings to one another under the blanket, soft, drunken giggles escaping the little bubble you'd created.

"rafe...?" you mumbled quietly, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second, "yeah?" he answered, his fingertips still tracing your spine, "thank you for coming to get me..." at your words, rafe let out a quiet huff of a laughter against your shoulder.

"you never need to thank me for something like that. if you call me, i'll come."

TAGLIST: @raahosh @nemesyaaa @purpleplumpudding @littlelamy @dollyfiles @esotericcangel @mattyskies @bakugouswaif @nonietosay @my-name-is-baby @tinythebunni @fratbrochrisgf @ariieeesworld @izumis-salty-penis @cameronsbabydoll

join my taglist here ♡

[rafeslittlepup]

what are bunnywife and rafe up to rn?

bunnywife is in the garden, barefoot in the grass, she’s clipping hydrangeas and tucking them into a little woven basket, her cheeks are all flushed from the sun. there’s still some flour on her fingers from earlier (she baked lemon muffins)

rafe just got home from work, he’s watching her from the kitchen door

“where’s your shoes, bun?”

“they were hurting my feet…”

“you’re gonna catch something, come inside.”

“i’m picking flowers…”

he sighs and scoops her up. he sets her down on the counter and starts checking her little feet for thorns like she’s made of porcelain. she’s all giggly and he’s pretending not to smile.

then, they eat the lemon muffins she made with tea, his black, hers with two sugar cubes and a splash of milk.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

whatever you want

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, ab riding, tit fucking, semi public sex, established relationship, cumming in mouth, mentions of future and past sex, lots of talk about rafes muscles, reader is kinda described as having big (or at least decent sized) breasts, lots of banter can these bitches just shut up and fuck oh my goddddd

“again.” you call, almost sounding drunk despite being completely sober.

rafe sighs, rolling his eyes, but the side of his lip quirks up, unable to hide how much he likes your fascination.

rafe flexes again, his arms bulging and pecs tightening. you reach out, smoothing your hands over the hard muscles.

“you're so strong.” you coo, sat on rafes lap despite the hot temperature of the day, which resulted in rafe pulling his shirt off.

"you're acting like you've never seen me shirtless before.” rafe says with a chuckle.

“shh, let me appreciate you.” you shake your head. sure, you've seen him shirtless plenty of times but rafe was bulking up for summer and it caused all his muscles to be deliciously defined.

“alright, whatever.” rafe flexes again, not going to argue too much when he has your hands obsessively touching every part of his body.

your hands move down to his stomach, fingers running over his abs. “if you let me ride your abs, i’d let you do whatever you want to me.”

“you-” rafe places his hands on his hips, sitting up straighter. “you want to ride my abs?”

“yeah.” you nod, quirking your head to the side. “you know, like rub my pussy against them.”

“shit, do it right now.” rafe looks down at your short shorts, barely covering more than your underwear does.

“yes!” you squeal out, hopping up and tugging your bottoms and panties off, not caring that you’re in the backyard and anyone could theoretically come by. “lay back.” you instruct.

rafe lays on the couch, smiling up at you as you climb on top of him. “you’ll have to flex for me as im doing this.” you inform rafe, placing your pussy on his abdomen. “especially your pecs.” you poke his chest.

“you’re such a slut for my body.” rafe chuckles, hands coming to your hips, pushing you further down, feeling your wetness as your thighs spread even more open.

“i can’t help that you’re so sexy.” you shrug, hips starting to move back and forth in a slow rock, carefully building up the pace, wanting to enjoy being sat on his stomach.

you lean forward, placing your hands on his chest for stability, pressing your clit further against his muscles. rafe flexes his muscles and they harden underneath you.

“rafe!” you squeal. 

“i guess you like that, huh?” rafes hands squeeze at your hips and lift up, placing you harder back down on his stomach. “oh, you like that too.” he smiles as he bounces you again and you moan out.

“i really like that.” you hum, eyes struggling to stay open with the pleasure, but you want to keep your eyes on rafe beneath you. its rare he lets you take over like this.

you moan as you both bounce, using your knees to go up and down while rafe assists so you don’t get burnt out. 

you pull your top off, revealing the bikini top you’re wearing underneath, ready to go swimming whenever you’re done playing with rafe, needing to get in the water on this sweltering day.

“jesus, your tits are perfect.” rafe smiles as he watches your chest bouncing, sitting up to rub his face in between your pushed together breasts, the bikini top holding them tight together.

“not as perfect as yours.” you giggle, hands squeezing at his chest, palms over his nipples.

“don’t call them tits.” rafe rolls his eyes as he lays back, head against the cushion.

“well, whatever you wanna call them, i fucking love your muscles. your pecs-” you squeeze your hands again, digging into his soft flesh until rafe flexes and they harden. “your biceps-” you move your hands, and rafe flexes again, his muscles bulging. “your abs.” this time you press your pussy down, rubbing against the contours and ridges.

“you’re lucky that you offered to let me do whatever i want to you otherwise i wouldn’t have agreed to this.” rafe smirks.

“oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow. “what are you gonna do to me?” there’s truly nothing rafe could do to your body that wouldn’t bring you pleasure, you glow just under his attention alone.

“fuck your tits.” rafe smirks, eyes moving down from your face to your chest. “as soon as your done, right here for anyone to see.”

“damn, you could do anything and you don’t want to fuck my asshole or tie me up?” you laugh, expecting something more from rafe.

“you’d let me do all that whenever anyways.” rafe pushes your hips down, grinding you against him. you moan and lean forward, your hands coming back to rafes chest. 

“keep doing that.” you whimper, eyes sliding closed as your mouth drops open, moans filling the air and being carried away by the wind. 

rafe keeps moving, the veins in his forearm flexing as your wetness spreads over his abs, coating them in your slick, allowing your pussy to drag even easier.

“im-im close.” you warn, swallowing thickly.

rafe grunts and increases his hold, tightening his grip on your hips so you can’t slip loose, grinding you down as he flexes his abs, the hardness rubbing against your clit making you moan out, body falling forward as you cum hard, shaking as rafe lets up on you, hands loosening and moving to rub your back.

“fuck.” you whine, snuggling into his chest, letting your hips drop down, feeling rafes hardness pressing against your stomach.

rafe starts to move as you cry out, not ready to do anything more than close your eyes and feel his warmth against your cheek.

“come on, brat.” rafe chuckles. “i wanna fuck your tits while you’re all spaced out from your orgasm. you know i love you like this.” 

you hum a sound thats close enough to agreement that rafe flips you so you’re underneath him, laying on your back on the couch as he stands.

“you’re so gorgeous like this.” rafe says as he undoes his belt buckle, then pushing his pants and underwear down, his hard cock popping up.

“wanna taste.” you whine, eyes still droopy.

“nope.” rafe shakes his head. “we made a deal. i know you like to taste me, but im fucking your tits. take your top off.”

rafe pulls at the strings of your bikini, flinging it away to reveal your pink nipples to the sunlight.

“fine, but will you at least cum a little in my mouth?” you pout as rafe kneels on either side of you, glad that the outdoor couch is big enough for all of these activities.

“sure, baby.” rafe chuckles, just another way of showing how desperate you are for him.

rafes hands land on your tits, palms rubbing on your nipples, feeling them harden against his palms, not unlike when he was flexing his muscles for you earlier.

rafes hands move to the sides of your breasts, pushing them together. “god, you look so fuckable right now.”

“yeah? gonna fuck me later then? maybe out on the boat hm? after you’re done with my tits?”

“the boat, the bed, the counter, the shower, im gonna have you everywhere.” rafe bends down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

you smile up at him, a lazy, tired smile. rafe angles his hips down, the head of his cock pushing against the underside of your tits before slipping in between them.

“oh!” your eyebrows raise, surprised at the unusual feeling, but certainly not disliking it as he begins to move back and forth.

“shit.” rafe grunts. “fuck.”

you swat rafes hands away, pressing your tits together for him. rafe leans forward, hands landing on either side of your neck, his face contorted in pleasure directly over yours.

you look down, eyes watching the head of rafes cock appearing and disappearing between your breasts.

“this is- this is fucking good.” rafe grunts, moving faster. “im- im not gonna last very long.”

you stick your tongue out, rafes cock just long enough to hit it with the tip of his cock as he thrusts. you relish the taste, pulling your tongue back into your mouth every couple thrusts to spread the taste.

“thats it, baby.” rafe moans, one hand moving to your mouth, two fingers pulling at the side of your lip, spreading your mouth wider.

you moan out, tongue open and ready for his cum. rafe fucks forward as fast as he can, just like he does your pussy when you spread your legs wide for him.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say as he surges forward, burying his cock in your mouth as his hand wraps around his length, stroking up and down as he reaches his high, cum spurting into your mouth as you happily swallow.

rafe moans slowly die out and become quieter until hes pulling out of your mouth. “get up my legs are about to give out.” he says quickly, and you barely slide off the couch before he collapses.

you giggle and climb on top of him, pressing kisses to his cheek as his chest heaves up and down.

“im guessing you liked that.” you rub your thumb over his bottom lip.

“yeah.” rafe smiles, his eyes sliding shut.

“so, boat ride now?”

“jesus, woman give me a second.” rafe laughs, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

[rotapathetic]

🔗 : ̗̀┊͙ (rafe is a meanie :c)⠀꒰ 🫧 ꒱ !⠀⠀୨୧

rafe watched with an elbow resting on the chair, hand rubbing his mouth, other hand sliding up and down your thigh. he didn’t necessarily want to mess you up as you did your makeup, perched on his lap, in front of the vanity. but you looked too good to be sitting there, not giving him attention.

he bounced his leg underneath you as you went to apply more mascara. you paused, giving him a look through the mirror. rafe smirked. “yeah, put those pretty eyes on me.”

you narrowed them, mock upset. rafe gripped your waist as leverage to sit forward in the chair. his lips grazed your ear as he had to slightly bend to reach them. “what else can i do to make you mad with those pouty lips? hm?”

you hid your smile and tapped at his hand, causing him to loosen his grip. “how about you sit still and let me finish. . please?” you gave him the pout he wanted.

and rafe obediently nodded, pressing his head against your arm and peeking up to watch you. he frowned when he noticed you were putting on more than one thing. “wait, can i still kiss you with all of that stuff on?”

you thought for a second, then twisted your lips, shaking your head. rafe nodded, seemingly thinking deeply. “yeah okay. .” he patted at your thigh to alert he wanted you to stand. when you did, he swiped the gloss from the vanity. “. .i’ll just take this then.”

you gasped, watching as he dropped it into his pocket, giving you an innocent smile. “you’re all done.”

you frowned. “no, i’m not. rafe, let me put on the gloss.” you put your hand out. rafe sighed, pulling it out and handing it to you. . then pulling his hand back when you reached for it.

you were close to stomping your foot when he rose it over his head. “you can do it. c’mere.” he gestured his fingers at you in a ‘come’ motion.

you stepped forward, rising on the tips of your toes and reaching your arm up. you let out a soft grunt when you couldn’t reach. rafe smirked down at you. “are you trying? don’t you want it, sweetheart?”

you put your arm down, twinkling eyes shining up at him. “this isn’t funny.” you crossed your arms.

rafe held it in front of you. “no, it’s not. just put on your last step.” rafe smirked to himself at his own knowledge of your routine.

you meekly tried to reach again, rafe pulling back at the last second. he frowned at your pout. “aw, is my baby gonna cry? because she’s too smaller than me? am i being too mean to her?”

you glanced away, suddenly shy. when you nodded, rafe let out a sigh. “let me help you.” he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into him and letting your socked feet step on top of his boots.

you tried to reach again, but failed. rafe chuckled next to your ear. “wow, i really misjudged your stature.” you slightly tapped him on the chest, his laughing only continuing.

“no, baby, i’m sorry. i actually thought that would work.” he handed you the gloss. you quickly snatched it before he could pull back again. he rose a brow at your swiftness. “i’m done.”

you glared at him as you went back to your chair to finish your routine. rafe stood back, looking all the more rejected. “can i really not get a kiss?”

you turned your head to him, shocked at the question. “no, rafe. you can not.”

[cameronsbabydoll]

scc!reader waking up to (retired?) scc!rafe's face in her tits and she's trying to wake him up but he does not BUDGE and he just stays like that for the next 20 minutes bc obviously he's a tits guy!

retired!scc!rafe being obsessed with scc!readers tits

you wake up to the weight of him before you even open your eyes.

his arm thrown heavy over your waist, leg slotted between yours, and—of course—his face nuzzled deep in your chest. like he’s paying rent.

you blink up at the ceiling, your voice still scratchy when you mumble,

“rafe…. you’re smothering me.”

no answer. just the faintest groan against your skin, his fingers digging in a little tighter like you’re his pillow. you squirm gently, not really trying to move him—but enough to test if he’ll get up.

nope. still no budge.

in fact, he only shifts lower, arms tightening around your waist, nose tucked into the dip of your sternum now, face rough against your skin.

“rafe—” you whisper, laughing softly, trying to poke at his shoulder. “you’re gonna suffocate.”

his voice is muffled, still half-asleep:

“worth it.”

he doesn’t even open his eyes. just sighs like this is the most peaceful he’s ever been in his life. and it probably is. thirty minutes into retirement and he’s got you wrapped up, warm, soft, and braless.

you give up after a while, brushing your fingers through his hair, cheeks flushed warm.

“you’re obsessed,” you murmur.

and even though he’s practically purring into your chest, he still manages to smirk.

“took me decades to retire, angel. let me live.”

and so you do. 20 more minutes of your clingy, sleepy husband using your tits as his final resting place. who could blame him.

[cherrywriterrr]

fuck it, i need a minute

bsf!rafe x reader

warnings: angst, jealousy, pining. soft heartbreak. language, emotional repression, one-sided feelings (maybe), friends-to-limbo situationship. aching, near-love. miscommunication. too much feeling. slow-burn breaking. final breath before something whole.

sarah’s the one who says it.

not directly—because she knows how you get when people bring up rafe—but soft enough that it hits like a fucking hammer.

“oh c’mon now,” she says, handing you a drink.

“just accept it. you love rafe.”

you scoff. louder than you mean to. and it’s definitely not because it’s true.

“shut the fuck up,” you mutter, eyes avoiding the part of the dock where sofia is sitting real fucking close to him.

he’s laughing at something she said, that tilted smirk you know better than his last name.

it’s the smile he only gives when he’s flirting.

or trying to get away with something.

you’ve seen it enough to know.

seen it enough to hate it.

you take a sip of the drink—too sweet. too warm. not strong enough.

“i don’t love him,” you say. sarah raises a brow.

“then why do you look like you wanna throw her in the fucking water?”

you clench your jaw.

truth is…

you saw sofia sit on his lap. and for a split second, your chest did that ugly little flip thing it does when he hooks up with someone who isn’t you.

you ignore it. obviously. you always ignore it.

you’ve always called it overprotectiveness.

he’s your best fucking friend. your dumbass bsf since you were fifteen.

of course you don’t want him tangled up with someone fake.

it’s not jealousy. not really...right?

you dig your nails into the cup, eyes still glued to him.

his hand brushes sofia’s thigh. she leans in.

and your body does that thing again—tightens, stiffens, throat dry, blood hot.

he’s not even yours. he never was.

so why does it feel like you’re losing something?

you drop the cup.

“fuck it,” you mutter, stepping back from the group, heart racing, voice cracked. “i need a minute.”

you don’t even know where you’re walking.

maybe toward the shore. maybe toward the edge of this delusion.

your fingers shake a little. sarah’s voice echoes behind you,

but you keep walking.

she doesn’t get it. no one fucking does.

because you were the one who stayed up with rafe when he came down off a bender.

you were the one who pulled him out of fights, bandaged his knuckles, let him sleep in your bed when his house felt too fucking cold.

you were the one who let him see the softest parts of you—your crying-in-the-dark parts.

but now, he’s smiling at someone else like she’s warm sunlight and not just another fucking placeholder.

you wipe your cheek.

you don’t cry over him. you don’t fucking cry over him.

you said you couldn’t want him less. but god—you just want him more.

you want his laugh. you want his midnight voice. you want him to want you back.

and isn’t that the most pathetic part? he probably doesn’t even notice you walked away.

”hey.”his voice comes from behind you, low and out of breath. “why’d you disappear? topper told me to come find you.”

you don’t turn around.

you stare at the water instead—still, dark, indifferent. the way you wish you felt.

you blink once. twice. let the burn behind your eyes cool.

and then you scoff, sharp and dry, like your chest hasn’t been aching for the last twenty minutes

“you can go.” you don’t even try to hide the bitter twist in your mouth.

“if topper wants me, he can come find me himself.”

and you don’t mean it. not really.

you just, you don’t want rafe here because topper sent him.

you want him here because he noticed. because he cared.

because he couldn’t fucking help himself.

but that’s not why he came.

he’s quiet behind you. you can feel him standing there though—fidgety and warm and close enough to knock the air out of your lungs just from being near.

he shifts a little. you hear gravel crunch under his boots.

“why’re you mad?” he says, voice lower this time.

you finally glance at him.

and it pisses you off how pretty he looks in the fucking moonlight—messy blonde hair, sunburned cheeks, beer in hand like he’s not the reason your entire body feels like it’s overheating.

you look away again. “i’m not mad.”

“yeah, you are.”

you exhale.tight. sarcastic. “whatever, rafe.”

he tilts his head. his eyes narrow a little. “you only call me ‘rafe’ when you’re pissed.”

you feel your throat close up.

god, he knows you. every tick, every habit, every defense mechanism.

you can’t look at him.

not when your chest feels like it’s about to split open and spill every feeling you’ve buried for the last few years.

you hear him take a step closer.

you back up a little, arms crossing automatically. distance. you need fucking distance.

“you good?” he asks. soft. confused.

you’re with sofia, you want to scream.

why the fuck are you asking me if i’m good?

but instead you say, “yeah. i just needed a minute.”

he squints at you. “you’re lying.”

you almost laugh. “and you’re an asshole,” you shoot back, eyes stinging.

his jaw clenches. you don’t know if it’s the beer or the jealousy or just being so goddamn tired of pretending, but your voice cracks.

“you should get back to your little girlfriend,” you mutter.”she’s probably wondering where you are.”

he frowns. “what?”

you wave your hand. “forget it. i don’t care.”

but he doesn’t walk away.

he just stares at you. hard like he’s finally fucking seeing it. “…are you jealous?” he asks.

you laugh. sharp. like broken glass.

“jealous? of sofia?” you smile. bitter. fake.“you think i give a shit who you’re flirting with?”

he looks at you for a long second. then?

he steps forward again. “i didn’t want to flirt with her.” his voice is quieter now. closer.

your breath catches.

“i just…” he rubs the back of his neck. “i don’t know how to flirt with you.”

your heart thuds.

he continues.“it’s easier when it’s someone i don’t care about.”

you swallow.

you’re not breathing. you can’t breathe.

and rafe is just standing there. looking at you like you matter. like you’re not just the best friend he leans on but the person he wants to lean in to.

you love him.you fucking love him.

and it’s terrifying.

so instead of saying any of it—you shake your head. “fuck it,” you mutter, stepping back. “i need another minute.”

“you always fucking walk away.” his voice cuts through the night, harsh and trembling and real

you freeze.

his footsteps hit the gravel again behind you, a few rushed ones like he’s afraid if he doesn’t say it now, he never will.

“that’s why i never say anything,” he growls “goddamn it, come back.”

you stand still. completely still. your hands are cold. your throat is a noose.

slowly, you turn to look at him. eyes wide. angry. wounded. “…what the fuck do you mean?”

his jaw tics.his hands ball into fists, like his body doesn’t know what to do with all the feeling”

“i mean every time i try—every time i try to tell you how i feel, you walk away,” he bites.

you blink.

he takes a step closer. his chest is rising and falling too fast. like it hurts him to say it.

“you disappear. you brush it off. you change the subject or pretend like you didn’t hear me. or you say some shit like ‘i need a minute’ and leave me standing there like a fucking idiot.”

his voice cracks a little. just for a second.

you don’t speak. you can’t.

and then he adds, quieter now— “that’s why it was sofia and not you.”

your chest caves.

he looks at you. straight in the eye. no smirk. no cold walls. just all the messy, breaking parts of him that only you ever saw.

“because at least with her, i knew she’d stay.”

your stomach twists.

and suddenly, you hate him and love him at the same time. because he’s right.

you do walk away.

every time it gets too close. every time it starts to feel like more. every time your heart does that thing it only does around him.

and maybe he’s an asshole. maybe he shouldn’t have picked her.

but maybe you were never there for him to pick.

you swallow. hard.

and you whisper, voice barely holding together “i didn’t know you meant it.”

he looks at you. like you just broke his whole world in one sentence.

“you never told me you meant it.”

his jaw softens.

your eyes are glassy.

the air between you is a landmine.

neither of you steps forward. but neither of you steps away.

not this time.

“you never told me you meant it,” you whisper.

and you hate how soft your voice sounds. how small. how fucking raw.

but it’s the only thing left in your throat.

he looks at you like he’s been waiting years to hear that.

like he’s been waiting years to say this.

he steps closer. slow. careful. like if he moves too fast, you’ll vanish again.

“i meant it,” he says, quiet but serious.

your heart stutters.

his voice is low. nothing like the way he talks to anyone else. only you. “i meant it every fucking time.”

you don’t speak. your hands start to shake.

he keeps going. “when i’d drive you home and tell you i didn’t want the night to end, i meant it.”

“when you wore that stupid hoodie and i said you looked like shit but smiled like a goddamn idiot anyway, I meant it.”

“when you drank too much at sarah’s birthday and i held your hair and kissed your shoulder after you puked… and i told you i liked it when you needed me, i meant that too.”

his voice is shaking now.

“fuck, when you walked away from me that night at the beach and i said ‘go, i don’t care’—i meant the opposite.”

you feel your lip wobble.

his chest is rising, falling, like he’s been holding all of this in for years. like he’s afraid this is all a dream. like you’ll disappear if he says it too loud.

and then, finally—“i always meant it.”

your heart breaks open.but it’s too much.

all of it. the truth, the timing, the way the night air feels thick between you.

“why didn’t you ever say it like that?” you ask, voice barely there.

he laughs, bitter. runs a hand through his hair.“because you’re you,” he says. “and i’m… me.”

you shake your head. “that’s not an excuse.”

he steps forward. one more inch. one more heartbeat.

“you’re the girl that makes everything feel like summer,” he says, rough and honest. “and i’m the guy that ruins everything i fucking touch.”

the words land like a bruise in your chest.

you whisper, “rafe…”

but he just looks at you. and for once, you don’t walk away.

you whisper, “i didn’t know.”

“i know.”

“i thought i was protecting myself.”

“i thought you were too good for me.”

you’re both silent. too much said. too much felt. and then, you whisper, breath hitching,“i’m still here.”

his eyes lock with yours. red. glassy. breathing hard. “yeah,” he says, stepping close enough to feel your body heat, “but for how long?”

you don’t answer. you don’t know.

and it hits you like a punch.

how long you’ve both been scared.

how long you’ve been circling each other. like satellites. like idiots. like cowards.

and still, you can’t move. his eyes drop. he thinks you’re walking away again.

you see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way his chest caves inward. his face shuts down like it always does right before he pretends not to care.

like it’s easier for him to beat you to it.

you finally whisper, “fuck it.”

his eyes flick up. wide. tired. bitter.

“yeah,” he scoffs, voice cracking. “fuck it, right? just leave again.”

you blink. your voice is shaking when you cut in,“no.” a step closer.

“fuck it…”your chest rises. “kiss me.”

he stares.

like he didn’t hear you. like the world stops spinning for a full five seconds.

“what?” he chokes.

“kiss me,” you repeat, stronger this time. more sure. “before i change my fucking mind.”

he exhales like it’s a prayer. like it’s salvation.

and then he’s on you.

grabbing your face with both hands, pulling you in like he’s needed this for years, like you’re air and he’s been drowning. it’s rough. messy. too much tongue, too much ache, but it’s perfect.

you kiss him back like you’re trying to memorize every second.

like you want it burned into your skin.

his fingers tangle into your hair, his mouth pressing hard, then softer, like he’s afraid he’ll lose you mid-kiss. like he thinks you’ll vanish the second he lets go.

you don’t. you stay. you melt.

you moan into his mouth and he nearly fucking loses it.

your fingers grip his hoodie like lifelines.

your lips part just enough to whisper, out of breath, “i hate you.”

he smirks against your mouth. “i know.”

you press your forehead to his. his nose brushes yours. “but i want you,” you whisper.

he swallows. closes his eyes. “then want me,” he says, voice barely audible, “for longer than a minute.”

you’re still holding onto him.

your fingers are clutching the sides of his hoodie like you’ll fall through the earth if you let go. his breath ghosts over your lips, heavy, uneven, stunned.

your voice is quieter than it’s ever been when you whisper, “what if i want you forever?”

you swear you feel him tremble.

his hand grips your waist harder. he pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, and there’s something wild there, like hope and disbelief are at war.

he breathes, like he’s steadying himself before jumping. “then fuck,” he says, “you better mean it.”

you don’t say anything. you just stare at him.

so he goes again, softer this time, “you think i haven’t wanted that?”

his hand touches your face. his thumb grazes your cheekbone. “you think i haven’t been losing my fucking mind every time you’d come around and act like we’re just friends?”

his voice breaks—just for a second. “i’ve wanted that, you. all of it. for years.”

your throat burns. “so why didn’t you ever tell me?”

his lips twitch. bitter. “because every time i got close, you’d disappear. you’d call it overprotectiveness. you’d say he’s just rafe. and then you’d hug everyone but me and laugh with everyone but me and—”

“rafe,” you cut him off, gently, your hand curling over his.

he pauses. he’s trembling again.

“i’m right here now,” you whisper.

his eyes flicker over your face. desperate. careful. reverent.

“and i’m not walking away.”

he lets out the softest, most broken laugh, more like a breath of relief.

“then fuck it,” he whispers back, leaning in, voice trembling against your mouth. “don’t let go.”

“i won’t.”

and this time, when he kisses you, it’s slower. deeper. full of everything neither of you said for years.

and everything you finally did.

->bsf!rafe taglist masterlist

tags: 🏷️ @rafesbabygirlx @viqtoria @k4yr14 @sc05 @devoutedlover @iconiccolo @qversazex @t0x1cfaerie @mrspuffdriving @silkylovey @purplerose291

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ getting a bit carried away while thigh riding your best friend rafe.

warnings — 18+. MDNI. bsf!rafe x bsf!reader. thigh riding. praise & slight degradation + humiliation.

cherie's note — #bringbackdryhumping

the wet fabric of your cotton panties glide effortlessly against his clad covered thighs, pulling soft whimpers and whines from your kiss-swollen lips, hands bracing yourself on your best friend's shoulders. his large hands stay perched on the skin of your hips, guiding the methodic motion of you against his thigh like he'd done this a hundred times with you — at least, in his head he had.

he can't seem to find one thing to focus on — the way your mouth falls open with soft little gasps and sharp intakes of air, or how your eyes screwed shut with every tug of the fabric ghosting your swelling clit, or the way your hips move against his leg, rutting desperately for release.

"that feel good?" he asked, thumb brushing the skin where your top had ridden up, exposing the thin fabric acting as the only barrier between the both of you — the resistance in his shorts, the thick heat building right where you were seated. it startled you — how quickly it lit something within your gut, so familiar but foreign with him.

you didn't answer. couldn't. your eyes fluttered shut with a soft hum, and your fingers clutched at his shoulders as you kept grinding your poor soaked cunt over the rough fabric of his khakis, trying desperately to follow his rhythm but faltering with every roll.

rafe chuckled low. "you hear yourself? fuckin' whimpering all over my thigh like that. you're soaked through your panties, baby."

you buried your face in his neck. tears pricked your eyes, not from pain — from pleasure. from embarrassment. from how much you wanted this.

"goddamn, you're pathetic," he groaned. "grinding on your best friend's leg like some needy little slut. ruining my shorts — you that desperate to get off?"

you whimpered, hips moving faster, chasing the friction shamelessly now. you couldn't stop the slick squelch every time your cunt dragged down the length of his tensed thigh — the heat of him bleeding straight through your underwear like it meant nothing. couldn't stop the heat that built every time he praised you, even when it came with a smirk and a condescending tilt of his head.

"look at you," he murmured. "didn't even know how to grind ten minutes ago. now you're fucking humping me like a bitch in heat."

you whined into the curve of his throat, nails digging into his shoulders, your thighs quivering where they straddled his leg helplessly. the drag of your soaked panties against the rough fabric of his shorts was relentless now, every pass catching just right — the heat in your belly coiling tighter and tighter.

his hands slid from your hips down to your ass, gripping, guiding, forcing your pace.

"c'mon, ride my thigh, pretty girl," he murmured against your ear, voice low and thick with undeniable lust. "i'll help you make a mess. that's what you wanted, right?"

you couldn't speak. couldn't even breath properly. just gasped as he pressed you down harder, grinding your needy cunt along the swell of his thigh until the friction made your head dizzy. there was no shame in the way you rutted against him now — just instinct, all slick heat and desperate want.

you were close. you could feel it, building with each stroke. the way his thigh flexed beneath you, muscles tense and unmoving �� giving you everything to push against. you were shaking now, hips stuttering, thighs trembling as the tension inside you snapped and then shattered completely.

you came with a soft, broken cry — hips jerking forward, grinding yourself down hard as the orgasm rolled over you, the wet patch engraved into rafe's khakis doing nothing to contain the mess you had made all over his thigh.

"feel better?" he coos, fingerings brushing the loose strands of hair falling against your face. "you want my mouth next, or are you done pretending you're not dying to ride my cock like a needy little slut?"

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe can’t always be mean to his delicate flower, can he?

c/w: fluff with a little bit of angst in the beginning, rafe feeding sensitive!reader pasta, slight subspace, smut: oral (f receiving), overstimulation, use of daddy & dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2k

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sock-covered feet pad along the hardwood floors when she finally hears the lock of the front door turning. Rafe’s home later than usual— a fact she’s entirely too aware of since she’s been impatiently waiting for him to return ever since he left her this morning without so much as a goodbye.  

Usually, she’d stir awake to him smearing kisses all over her face and mumbling sweetened words about how much he’s going to miss her during his meetings— sometimes even wake her up with his cock prodding at her entrance before fucking her all sleepy and sloppy until she’s a sobbing mess.   

However, she assumes he was still mad at her because she forgot to let him know she was going out for drinks after her lecture before her battery had died. Therefore, she hadn’t received his several calls or the texts filled with concern and only a few hours later, did she remember that she’d never actually sent the message regarding her whereabouts.  

When he came to pick her up after she’d borrowed her friend’s phone in order to reach him, he was clearly displeased; merely muttering out a “ask you to do one thing and you can’t even do that. You know how fuckin’ worried I was?” and crudely telling her to go sleep in the guest room because “daddy doesn’t feel like dealing with your shit tonight”, which had resulted in wet droplets surfacing to her waterline while she kept apologizing over and over again, but to no avail.   

In the morning, she’d woken up to a tear-stained pillowcase and a headache. And when she tiptoed over to the bathroom, she realized that the entire house was desolate; he hadn’t even left a note.   

Therefore, she’s not exactly sure how to approach him, hesitant in her movements before she sees him in front of her in all his glory.   

“Hi,” her voice is quiet, but her forlorn face lights up nonetheless. 

Rafe is in the process of mindlessly kicking off his shoes when he looks up; a tired smile tugging at his lips when she practically tumbles into his arms in a greeting.  

“Missed you,” she mumbles against his crisp button up when he rests his big hands on her hips in an attempt to steady her.   

“Missed you too,” he murmurs into her hair. “Got you somethin’,” he reluctantly pulls away in order to present her with a bouquet of pink lilies; her favorites.  

“What’s this for?” her moony eyes stare up at him in bewilderment.  

“Drove past a flower shop…guess they made me think of you,” he admits, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek; confusing her to no end.  

“But I thought—” she utters out, hesitant to take the flowers she feels unworthy of.   

“That I was mad at you?”   

She nods, looking up at him with guilt swimming in her eyes.  

He lets out a sigh.  

“Listen, I was, uh, maybe a little too harsh on you last night, okay? I know how forgetful you can be. Was just worried when you weren’t home and didn’t answer your phone until hours later. Thought somethin’ happened, you know?” he explains with a calmness that placates her racing mind as she accepts his gift.   

“I know, m’sorry. Won’t happen again, promise. Texted you today the second I was home, right?”   

“You did,” he confirms as he peels off his suit jacket before sniffing the air. “Smells good, what’re you making?”   

“Oh, I made you dinner,” she says bashfully, almost as if waiting for his approval.  

“You did? All by yourself?” his brows climb his forehead in surprise.   

She nods, a soft smile on her lips before he’s ushering her towards the kitchen and plucking a glass vase from the top shelf for her. 

Usually, he’s the one cooking for them since she’s not greatest in the kitchen, always so tired after studying the whole day, she’d probably forget the stove on and cause some sort of a fire due to her absentminded nature. Therefore, he prefers to prepare his girl a nurturing meal whenever he doesn’t have to work late.   

“How was uni today?” he asks as she sets the now flower-filled vase on their dining table.  

“A lot. Was kinda stressed the whole day cause I have so much homework and reading to do, don’t know how I’m supposed to have time for all of it. And then have this group project and the deadline for this essay approaching and…I don’t think my brain works anymore,” she sighs out when she peers down at the steaming bowl of spaghetti Bolognese he places on the counter.   

“Good thing you don’t need to worry that head of yours over anythin’ with me. Let dad do the thinking for you, yeah?” Rafe’s voice is as smooth as honey, causing her to blink up at him— something cottony dusting over her mind in response to his sugary cadence.   

Strong arms lift her up and place her on the marble countertop before he settles right between her thighs, like a puzzle piece she’s been missing the entire day; tall frame hovering over her even as she’s practically perched on a pedestal.   

Then, he’s picking up the plate in the most casual manner and contently shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth before groaning in satisfaction.   

“Shit, this is amazin’,” he praises around the mouthful.   

She mumbles out a flustered thank you, her thoughts all over the place since she thought he’d still be mad, but then suddenly he’s not. In fact, he’s seemingly in a great mood.   

“Did you eat yet?”  

“No, was, um…waiting for you. Didn’t wanna eat alone,” her volume is nearly inaudible. 

He stops chewing.   

“Waitin’ for me, huh?” he rasps out before he’s lifting the fork closer to her mouth.   

She looks up at him, puzzled.   

“Open,” he orders and she has no choice but to obey— let him feed her because truthfully, whenever she’s around him she gets a little dumb; can’t really focus on anything except his low drawl and gemstone eyes.   

“Good, right?”  

She hums her agreement around the bite, barely registering that some of the tomato sauce stains her chin in the process.   

“Always so messy, huh?” he tuts disapprovingly, even if he’s the one holding the fork.   

However, before her mushy brain has the time to even comprehend what he’s doing, he’s laving the flat of his tongue under her mouth; cleaning it up for her.   

“There we go,” he murmurs as he rubs a thumb over the spot for good measure.   

She swallows.   

“Want some water?” he asks and she nods, all of a sudden unable to utter out words.  

Then, he’s tipping a glass of ice-cold water to her lips, carefully watching her gulp down the liquid before he decides she’s had enough— withdrawing the cup in order to drink some of it himself.    

He continues feeding her every other bite and making casual conversation, all the while she feels herself softly slipping into a very specific headspace. And before she realizes, he’s placing the empty dish in the sink with a slight clatter; their bellies full and happy.    

She doesn’t think she wants to eat by herself ever again.  

Then, her foggy mind registers him in front of her again as he pulls her closer— warm palms slipping under her top and his thumbs idly smoothing over her tummy while she quietly stares at him with hearts for eyes.  

“You put this tiny thing on just for me, hm?” he questions as his eyes drop down to her cleavage; the pale pink lace doing a very poor job of concealing what’s underneath since she’s forgone a bra (and pants), as she usually does whenever she’s merely loitering around their home.  

“Look so pretty in this,” his dreamy voice rumbles as he swipes a thumb over a covered nipple, causing her to let out a faint gasp at the sudden contact.  

“Ray…” she hums out while he keeps rubbing over the squishy part of her body he knows gets her buzzing.  

“Hm? You feelin’ floaty already?” he asks with a gentle cadence. And she’s not sure how he always seems to know just the right words to say in order to turn her into clay.   

“Yeah, missed you so much,” her hazy eyes flicker over his face while he simply gazes at her, before he’s smearing his mouth on hers.   

There’s something hungry, primal in the way he groans against her lips— causing a whimper to escape her throat in response.  

Then, all of a sudden, he’s lifting her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing more than a single paperclip; making her squeak out a sound of surprise when he jokingly smacks her ass while walking out of the room before throwing her on the bed.   

“Let daddy say hi to his favorite girl, yeah?” he coaxes her before he’s prying her thighs apart and nuzzling his face into her cunt through the material of her panties; nose bumping against her clit, making her shift closer to him.  

“Missed my pussy so much, you know? Wanted to fuck you nice ’n slow last night but you never came home.”   

“M’sorry, daddy,” she can’t help but whimper out when his warm tongue licks over the already dampening fabric of her underwear.   

“Yeah? You gon’ make it up to me? Let me eat you ’till I forgive you?”  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want,” she blabbers, a whine leaving her vocal cords when he plucks the soaked through material to the side and blowson her sensitive cunt.   

“Shit, you’re so wet already,” he says in awe, letting spit drip down his tongue and onto her folds anyway. Then, he’s wrapping his lips around her clit, making her cry out because she can already feel her orgasm lingering underneath the surface.  

“Need to come, can I? Please m’gonna— ” she says, almost in a trance; already so wound up. And the way he’s practically torturing her achy button with his mouth isn’t really helping.  

After he’s hummed his agreement, she’s not able to hold it in any longer— his tongue poking at her opening when the knot in her belly unfolds. She’s shaking, thighs yearning to close, if not for his strong arms holding them open as he groans around her, seemingly lost in a daze with her taste and smell practically suffocating him.  

Since he knows how insatiable she tends to be, he refuses to pull away from between her thighs. And two more orgasms later, she’s a whimpering muddle; desperately trying to drag her hips away from his unrelenting hold. However, he’s entirely too strong and she doesn’t stand a chance. 

“Ray, s’too much, need a break—” she complains, eyes beginning to turn watery in response to the overwhelming pressure.  

However, despite her protests, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he begins to mess with her entirely too sensitive clit with his fingers now— pressing and pulling and making her whine as tears trickle down her cheeks and she tries to fruitlessly wiggle away from him once more.    

“Nah, you’re good, dad wants you to give him a few more, think you can do that?” he mumbles against her sticky folds, stuffing the tip of his tongue into her weepy hole as an effort to persuade her.  

“I don’t know if I can—”  

“Shh, jus’ wanna make you feel nice, you don’t want me to?” he feigns hurt when he lifts up his head, beginning to mouth over the soft skin of her inner thighs to pacify her; his slight stubble tickling her in the process and making her twitch.  

“No, I do, I do…”   

“Then quit whinin’ and let me take care of you, hm? Show you how much I love you,” he coaxes her to give in. And when he puts it like that, she thinks it does sound rather romantic. 

[rafeslvbug]

nfl!rafe and reader when their son breaks his leg and tries to act tough like his daddy, but eventually breaks when rafe has a talk to him that it’s okay to be emotional

your son had refused help the entire time after he broke his leg playing football with his friends. he was almost flailing in your arms when you lifted him up, enough to make you put him back down in fear he’d hurt himself more. he limped as far as he could, at the very most letting you hold his bag, trying to hold back his tears and cries of pain whenever his hand grasped your arm.

he had only done two half steps so far, each time nearly falling to the floor.

“sweetie, just let me carry you to the car, okay?” you kneel in front of him, making him stop his weak attempt at walking. he knits his brows, shaking his head firmly and trying to stand straighter, as if to prove he wasn’t injured.

“i’m fine momma,” he mumbled, trying to get past you, but you held his shoulders firm. hair blew into his face when he huffed, grumbling about how it wasn’t so bad.

but you could see the bone out of place.

it didn’t take long from texting rafe for him to be striding up the path to where you and your son were. he’d been waiting in the car, said it’d be best if you went because you were better at dealing with injuries and whatnot.

now his jaw was set, face steady when he walked up the path and his son groaned. “dad i’m fine,” he began, but rafe was hearing none of it when he scooped him into one arm, hauling the bag you had onto his other shoulder.

“nah little man, we’re not playing that game,” he simply grunted, carrying him all the way to the car, arm wrapped around your waist.

the car ride to the hospital was silent, your son trying to suck in his tears, you throwing him concerned looks and rafe glancing at him through the mirror.

the hospital was quiet too, letting them do their x-rays and put the cast on after aligning his bone. they had given your son painkillers, but you could see how it still hurt, how he refused to admit it or take more medicine later on at home.

it gave you enough grief that while cooking dinner that night you turned to rafe, brows pinched and biting your lip. “rafe, baby, i don’t think he’s okay.”

“no? hm i thought he wasn’t,” he sighed, settling his hands on your waist, drawing you closer to him.

“he won’t tell me..”

“you want me to talk to him, don’t ya sweetheart?” he guesses, nodding gravely when you hum.

-

your son’s tucked in under his blanket, acting like nothing hurts, like the bulky cast isn’t the most uncomfortable thing he’s ever had to deal with.

and rafe reads it all too well.

sitting down next to his bed with a heavy sigh, he gives his son that look. the one his son knows all too well to be the “i’m not stupid” look.

“how’s that leg of yours, little man?” he asks, tilting his head down at him.

face set as indifferent as he can manage, your son declares, “nothin’ big, you’d handle it just fine.”

it clicks in rafe’s mind finally why his son’s been acting like this. floods into him like waves of guilt too. he’s not pretending like it doesn’t hurt for no reason. for appearances. he’s doing it to be like him.

“that’s not true, hurt my leg once, cried on the pitch, let your momma help me around the house for two weeks,” he murmurs, moving off the seat to kneel beside the bed instead. your son perks up, snapping his head to his dad’s direction as if he can’t even believe what he’s saying.

“you..cried?” he focuses on, “and you let momma help you?”

“sure i did, your momma’s like a healer..and crying’s good too,” he reminds him softly.

“good..?” he asks tentatively.

“yeah, it feels better when you cry. ‘cuz it hurts, so you gotta cry, ‘s only normal.” he can see his sons eyes reddening, them glossing over when rafe brushes his hair back.

“d’you wanna cry? does it hurt?” he asks him, softer than usual, a tone he’s failed to use around his son and now regrets doing so.

your son nods tearfully, rafe not hesitating to pull him into his arms, patting his back as he finally releases the sobs he was holding back, giving him words of reassurance throughout.

rafe couldn’t help but feel it was his fault. years of putting up a front of being made of stone, the strong man of the house. now rubbing off on his son in the worst way possible.

he knew, however, it wasn’t too late to fix it.

once his son had ceased crying, settling back into bed, rafe tucking him in properly and kissing his head, he walked back to your room. after slipping through the door, he climbed into bed, turning to you who sat, anxiously awaiting news.

“is he okay?” you ask, worried as rafe pulled you to face him, bringing your head down to his chest.

“he will be,” he mutters against your hair. “i’ll keep talkin’ to him. shoulda been doin’ that a while ago”

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616 @csturnioloswifey @silkylovey @mak1777

[littlelamy]

Can u write one where reader in rafe are broken up on they have a kid but rafe still wants her because she’s a milf😛😛

a/n: hope you like it bb! i want to do more milf!reader so send more requests!!

“sooo, this what motherhood look like now?”

you don’t even have to turn around to know it’s rafe. his voice still does that thing—annoyingly smooth. you glance over your shoulder anyway, one hip popped as you hoist the diaper bag higher, your kid balanced on the other side, clinging to your hoodie with chubby fingers.

he’s leaning against his car across the parking lot like this is some romcom reunion moment, arms crossed, a crooked smirk playing on his lips like he didn’t rip your fucking heart out a year ago. he’s in that stupid grey shirt that clings to his chest in a way you know he does on purpose. like he knows it makes horny.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, voice dry.

he pushes off the car, starts walking toward you. “just sayin’,” he shrugs, eyes dragging down the curve of your ass in the leggings you didn’t think twice about throwing on this morning. “you really gonna come out here with your hair in a claw clip and your tits lookin’ like that and expect me to not say something?”

you huff a breath, glance at your kid—blissfully chewing on the zipper of the diaper bag like she’s got no idea she’s at the center of this chaotic love story neither of you really closed the book on.

“i’m literally just picking up wipes,” you mutter, adjusting your grip on the squirming toddler who’s now babbling happily to herself.

“yeah, and you’re doin’ it lookin’ like that.” he grins, cocky and slow. “don’t act like you don’t know you’re a full-blown milf.”

you stare at him, deadpan. “you’re so annoying.”

“and yet,” he says, stepping closer, eyes catching yours for just a second longer than necessary, “you ain’t stopped lookin’ at me either.”

you roll your eyes, shifting your daughter to your other hip. “what do you want, rafe?”

he shrugs again, but it’s slower this time. “just saw you out here. thought maybe we could talk. catch up.”

“we don’t need to catch up. we have joint custody. we literally see each other all the time.”

“not like that.” his voice is lower now, and when you meet his eyes, there’s something softer under the usual smirk. something that makes your stomach twist, because you know exactly what that look means. “i meant…you and me.”

you exhale, long and sharp. “rafe, we’ve been over this.”

he runs a hand through his hair, stepping in close enough now that you can smell his cologne—warm and woodsy, very familiar. he brushes his thumb gently over your daughter’s back, and the sight of it makes your chest ache.

“i know,” he says. “but that don’t mean i’ve stopped thinkin’ about it..about you.”

you clutch the bag tighter, feel the weight of his words settle heavy in your chest. “you think just because we had a kid, that means we’re supposed to magically work out again?”

he shakes his head. “nah..not sayin’ that. but it changed how i see you. how i feel about you.”

you blink, caught off guard. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

his eyes drag over your face, slow and sure. “means watchin’ you be a mom? watchin’ you handle every meltdown and midnight fever and blowout diaper like it’s nothin’? that shit wrecked me.”

“rafe—”

“nah, let me finish.” he steps a little closer, voice quieter now, but so damn certain. “you’ve always been beautiful. always had me twisted. but now? you’re somethin’ else. strong, scary strong, and soft, too. and yeah, the fact that you still look hot as fuck doin’ it? not helpin’ me forget how good we were.”

you look down, not because you’re shy, but because you hate how fast your throat tightens. you’ve been doing this alone for so long, even when you weren’t alone. but hearing him say it—he saw it, all of it—something warms your heart.

“we weren’t always good,” you say, voice thick. “you know that.”

“i do.” he nods. “but when it was good? it was good. and i think we could have that again. maybe better this time. i’m not the same dumbass i was before.”

you let out a humorless laugh. “you still sound like him.”

he grins. “maybe. but now i’m a dumbass who never misses a pickup and knows how to braid her hair when she asks. that’s gotta count for somethin’, right?”

you look at him, and for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t just feel like shared history. it feels like a possibility for the future.

your daughter squeals suddenly, yanking your attention back, and rafe leans in without thinking, kissing her cheek, brushing a crumb from her mouth. your stomach does a stupid little flip at the sight of it.

you hesitate, then sigh. “you wanna come over tonight? help with bedtime?”

he straightens, eyes lighting up like a golden retriever. “you serious?”

“don’t make it weird,” you grumble, already walking to the car, “you’re still doing bath time.”

he catches up beside you, smirking. “i’ll bring dinner.”

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re still a pain in my ass.”

“yeah,” he says, brushing his hand lightly over your back as he opens the car door, “but i’m your pain in the ass.”

you don’t argue, at least not this time.

❤︎‬ tags below

taglist𑄽𑄺: @rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafedaddy01 @rafesangelita @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl @esquivelbianca @p45510n4f4shi0n @palomavz @cokewithcameron @donaldsonsgirl @yncoded @lilbunnysfics @solaceluna @icaqttt @alphabetically-deranged @wintercrows @st8rkey

[hearts4hughes]

ex bf rafe finding you crying on the beach??🤔😌

you’re curled in on yourself at the edge of the water, knees hugged to your chest, cheek sticky with mascara stained tears. the tide is low as it hits your bare feet. the moonlight glints off your skin like something reverent.

you didn’t mean to cry here. you didn’t mean to cry at all. but your chest cracked open like a storm-bloated sky. bare feet in cold sand, silence thick around you, the voice mail still playing in your head on loop.

“you’re exhausting, you know that? i can’t keep doing this. no one else would, either.”

it’s funny, almost. or it would be, if it didn’t hurt so much. you hadn’t meant to get so attached to him. it was a friends with benefits relationship that went wrong. you started depending on him, reaching out for him in the night only to be met with cold sheets. he didn’t like that. he wasn’t rafe.

“you’re kidding me.” rafe’s voice rings through the silence. the sound of sand crunching becomes louder and louder. your breath stutters. you press your face harder into your arms.

he drops down beside you without ceremony, sneakers skidding in the sand, and suddenly the air smells like cologne and rafe cameron—your ex. your mistake, if you ask anyone else. your ache, if you ask yourself.

“who did this to you?” his voice cuts like glass. “why are you crying out here all alone?”

you don’t answer. you don’t trust your voice not to break again. so you sit there, breathing through the sting in your throat, the familiar ache of him being too close. he leans in, sharp and careful at the same time. that unbearable paradox of him. his hand ghosts your back like he wants to pull you in but isn’t sure if he should.

“tell me who it was,” he says again. lower now, quieter, dangerous. his hand wraps around your wrist, thumb stroking your skin. he fights the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours.

you shake your head. “it’s not important.”

“wrong,” he snaps, teeth clenched. “you’re crying. it’s important. whoever made you feel like this,” he takes in a sharp breath, “i swear to god, i’ll end them.”

your lip trembles. “you don’t get to do this anymore, rafe.” you pull your hand from his grasp and bury your face in your knees. he flinches. but doesn’t back off—he never has. he looks at you like you’re some kind of divine puzzle that he forgot how to solve.

“you think i stopped caring just ‘cause you broke up with me?” he says, voice thick. “sweetheart, that’s not how this works.”

the nickname lands like a bruise. it ignites a flame of memories—late night car rides, stolen kisses, sweet nothings in the sand of this very beach. it’s stupid how much you still want to fall apart in his arms.

you drag your eyes up to meet his. he looks wild. hair a mess, jaw tight, eyes burning, worried, like you’re still his to protect.

you say, “he said i’m too much.” rafe stills. his hand grips the sand beneath him. he stops breathing. “said i’m dramatic, selfish. that i make everything harder than it has to be.”

the silence that follows is thick and trembling. he’s frozen, staring at you like he might actually snap in two.

“what else?” his voice is soft. you remember that tone all too well. it’s the same one he’d use when you two used to call it love.

you hesitate, “that i don’t know when to shut up. that my feelings are exhausting.”

he shuts his eyes, breathing hard. he’s trying not to get up and track the guy down right now. “jesus,” he breathes, like a prayer or a curse. “jesus, baby.” rafe’s hand slides over yours, warm and comforting. he brushes his thumb over your knuckles like he’s trying to rub the words off your skin. “you’re not too much,” he says, looking at you like he wants to memorize every trace of sadness on your face just so he can erase it. “you’re exactly enough. always have been.”

you let out a shaky breath, something breaking in your chest. “you used to say that when i cried.”

“i meant it then and i mean it now.” his fingers move slow, tentative, like he’s scared you’ll pull away. “you think it was hard loving you? no, baby. what’s hard is trying not to loving you.” you want to look away, but he doesn’t let you. tilts your chin until your eyes meet his. “c’mon, i’ll bring you home.”

“no,” you stutter and the tears stream down once again. “he’ll be mad at me. if he finds out-”

“then i’ll bury him so deep that the tide won’t find him,” he grins, bumping your shoulder with his playfully.

you almost laugh. almost cry again, too. but then he pulls you into his chest, just long enough that your heart remembers what it feels like to be held by someone who never needed to be convinced you were worth the trouble.

he always made a mess of love, but he never made you feel like one.

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @favbrnette @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @bibissparkles @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece

[simpforboys]

Frat!perv!manipulator!Rafe that finally gets a taste of topper’s dumb gf…

(Warnings: oral f receiving, manipulation, drunk/dubcon, cursing, praise, fingering, cheating)

series masterlist

Fuck.

Is all Rafe could think of when he saw you, wearing that white shirt that had your tits spilling out and showing off your tummy.

Not even mentioning that denim skirt you always seemed to wore. All he wanted to do was fold it up and dry hump the shit out of you like he did two weeks ago.

How was Topper such a lucky bastard?

You had a warm smile on your face, a red solo cup in your fingers as you giggled at something your boyfriend was drunkenly rambling on about.

It was a big party night at Outer Banks University, specifically for Alpha Sigma Phi. One where every frat guy got laid, except Rafe tonight. He couldn’t care less about the other girls’ eyes on him.

Not when your eyes weren’t on him.

Rafe was tipsy. He would prefer to be drunk, but he knew he should probably be somewhat aware of his actions. Especially since you were dressed so fucking deliciously.

As soon as Topper left your side, though, Rafe stalked over to you like a predator.

“Hi, sweetness.” He coos, blue eyes locked on your tits before flickering back up to that pretty face he’s so obsessed with.

“Hi, Rafey.” You drunkenly giggle, barely standing on your own two feet.

“Y’look like a mess, baby.” He teases, his big fingers moving to gently poke where the fabric of your shirt is exposing your soft tummy.

You squirmed a bit at the action, almost falling over. Which, Rafe clearly planned for, since his big arms caught you.

“Woah, y/n. Maybe I should take ya upstairs, huh? Back t’mine and Top’s room?”

He was acting like a concerned friend, but in reality, he wanted to get you away from all the prying eyes. Alone.

“Uhmm…” you just hummed unsurely, but didn’t protest when Rafe wrapped his arm around your waist and started guiding you through the crowded house, all the way upstairs into his and Topper’s shared bedroom.

He helped you slip your shoes off, your legs stumbling over to your boyfriend’s twin xl bed before Rafe’s big hands lifted your hips to set you down carefully on it.

“There ya go, good girl.” He murmurs softly, although his cock is painfully hard in his jeans.

“Thank you, Rafey.” You mumble out drunkenly, laying back on the mattress, angling your head so it’s not propped up against the wall while your hips still face the side of the bed.

“Anythin’ f’you, sweet girl. Y’know that.” He coos, his perverted eyes automatically drifting down to where your thighs are spread a bit, revealing a damp spot on your pretty panties.

“Oh, babygirl… look a’ya. All wet ‘n needy f’me. S’your boyfriend takin’ proper care o’ya?”

His thumb came over to start rubbing against your clothed clit, blue irises flickering back up to watch your face.

“A-ah, Rafey.” You mewl softly, lifting your head to watch with half-lidded eyes.

“Shhh, be a good girl f’me, yeah? Rafey s’jus’ helpin’ ya out.”

He gently grasps your thighs and pulls them to where he’s standing next to the side of the bed, fingers hooking into the cotton material of your panties as he tugged them down your legs.

You just laid back against the shitty mattress, mind spinning. But you trusted Rafe. He is your boyfriend’s best friend, after all.

Rafe almost came in his underwear at the sight of your drenched pussy. How long have you been left aching during the party? His poor girl.

He’s had so many wet dreams and fantasies about this moment, and it takes everything in him to not pull his own pants down and fuck you senseless on Topper’s bed while there’s a party downstairs.

But, somehow, he refrains as he spreads your thighs a bit more as he leans down a bit, resting his toned chest against the edge of the mattress.

“S’pretty… such a pretty baby.”

You went to respond, brain fuzzy from alcohol. But then a warm, wet tongue met your bare clit, and the only thing that escaped you was a soft moan.

“Fuckkkkk…” Rafe grunted, already leaking precum in his boxer briefs just from his tongue flicking out to sample your hardened bud.

Just the little taste already had him even more addicted.

He couldn’t help himself, he’s been fucking his fist to this thought for months. His mouth latches onto your drenched cunt, tongue swiping through your folds and over your clit.

“R-Rafe!” You cry out, fingers digging into your boyfriend’s sheets.

“Shh, sweet girl. Shut up.”

He lifted two fingers and slid them through your parted lips, your mouth instinctively starting to suck on the long digits. His cock twitched at the sight and he let out a small moan against your pretty pussy.

He watched you suck on his fingers for a minute before he reluctantly pulled them out, a string of saliva connecting your lips from his soaked digits.

“Good girl, baby. Such a good girl f’Rafey.” He praises softly, his middle and ring finger gently sliding into your quivering hole.

“A-agh…” was all that left you, unable to form words in your drunken, pleasure-filled mind.

He swore under his breath again, watching how your greedy cunt swallowed his fingers. He looked back up at you as he began to slowly slide his fingers in and out, his tongue moving back to slide circles around your throbbing clit.

You were panting, back arching, hips bucking. All for him.

“Such a sweet cunt, babygirl. Knew I called ya sweetness f’a reason.”

He crooks his fingers against that spongy spot inside of your walls, his own stomach feeling warm when he heard you whimper out.

“Rafey…”

Rafe felt like such a fucking loser, because all it took was you moaning his name before he’s cumming in his underwear, sensitive cock completely untouched.

“Shittt, y/n. G’nna let m’eat this pussy whenever I want?” He practically whimpers.

Your tummy was feeling tight as the pleasure was getting overwhelmingly good, better than any time Topper tried to eat your cunt.

He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your eyes squeezed shut, pretty lips parted.

“Cum f’me, sweet girl. Cum all over Rafey.”

His command was enough to send you over the edge, soft mewls and noises leaving you as your body trembled for a good ten seconds.

Which sent Rafe into another orgasm, his underwear and jeans completely ruined from his sticky, leaking cock.

And Rafe has never been able to cum without getting any friction on his dick before, but here you were, making him cream himself twice back to back while he ate you out.

“S’good… S’good.” He coos softly, lapping up your release, his own legs shaking a bit.

He was feeling overwhelmed, beyond grateful his chest is leaning against his best friend’s bed.

You let out another little whimper when he pulled his fingers out of your cunt, your eyes still fluttered shut.

Rafe sucked on his own fingers, feeling his dick twitch again at your addictive taste.

And there was no way Rafe was going to be able to last much longer before he fucked your perfect cunt.

[rafeslittlepup]

Rafe taking bunny out for dinner for one of his business meetings and all his colleagues are like obsessed with how much of a sweetie she is

rafe hand rests on the small of her back as they all step into the country club’s dining room, his zegna suit crisp, and her dress cream and lacy and far too delicate. she clutches her tiny clutch like it’s holy, her nails a pale bunny pink, her perfume sweet and powdery like baby’s breath.

“evenin’, gentlemen,” rafe says, all slow southern charm, tugging her a little closer as they approach the long table of men in navy jackets and ties.

their eyes immediately flick to her.

“this your wife?” one asks, blinking like he’s seen a doll.

rafe doesn’t answer right away, at first he just glances down at her. she’s beaming, all shy, doing that soft bunny smile with her lipgloss sparkling under the chandelier light. then turns back to the man with a smirk like hell yeah, she is.

“sure is.”

they’re all polite at first, “you’re even prettier than your pictures,” “how do you put up with this one?”…. but it’s obvious. they’re all enchanted. she doesn’t talk much, just giggles and twirls her straw in her grapefruit lemonade (that rafe ordered for her, of course), but every time she laughs at one of his jokes or tilts her head like she’s listening so carefully, they look at him like “you lucky bastard”.

“she’s just—so well-behaved,” one whispers to another when she excuses herself to the powder room.

“yeah man, mine would’ve been on her phone the whole damn time.”

rafe hears it and smirks, sipping his bourbon slowly.

when she comes back, he stands, pulls her chair out for her, then leans close just to whisper “you’re makin’ ‘em all jealous, bunny.”

and she giggles, blushing a little. “why?”

he kisses her cheek, murmurs against her skin, “‘cause you’re perfect.”

[cherrygirlfriend]

reader sending pictures in nerd!rafes bed to him while he's in class 😔

https://x.com/pwiests/status/1929685150608289916?s=19

perv!reader sends nerd!rafe pictures in his bed while he's in class

LINK! i normally prefer to write oneshots rather than blurbs (because i love yapping) but i really wanted to write a little blurb for this!! anyway i’m posting a proper fic later tonight. 18+

one of the downsides to having a brilliant, borderline genius boyfriend was that he actually enjoyed attending class, which then meant that once you were finished with your lectures, your boyfriend would have at least two more. and because you wanted to spend time with your boyfriend, that left you dying of boredom in his bedroom.

maybe you were being a bit dramatic. rafe had told you that you could read any book in his room, he'd given you the password to his computer, telling you that you were welcome to whatever you wished to do on it, even going as far as installing the sims 4 along with a few expansions packs when he'd seen you watching someone play it on youtube.

but you couldn't help it; you were still bored and missing your boyfriend.

within moments, you were clad in nothing but a skin-tight white long-sleeve shirt and somewhat sheer white over-the-knee-high socks, your reflection visible on your phone screen with your camera application open, your lips pouty and your cleavage on display.

the shutter went off about fifty times until you finally felt satisfied, letting out a sigh and sinking yourself into the pillows, going through the pictures, trying to find the pictures you liked the most; once you finally found the four pictures you liked the best, you sent them over to the contact 'my love ♡' with the text 'missing you, thinking about you...' making sure that the background was visible so rafe knew what was waiting in his room.

rafe was deep into listening to his professor's lecture when his phone screen lit up with a notification telling him that you'd sent him multiple messages. his brows furrowed slightly behind his glasses as he picked his phone up, opening it with face ID.

rafe's eyes widened when he saw the pictures you'd sent him, your tits pushed together, your lips glossy in the pictures where they were visible, over-the-knee-high socks just a few inches away from the hem of the shirt... rafe's cock twitched in his jeans involuntarily, the boy letting out a quiet, sharp breath. he couldn't help but wonder what you were wearing under it? what color panties were you wearing? were you wearing any panties?

rafe glanced down at the picture and then back up at the professor; it only took a few seconds for him to quietly leave the lecture hall and start making his way towards his room to find out what was hiding under your shirt.

taglist: @raahosh @nemesyaaa @purpleplumpudding @littlelamy @dollyfiles @esotericcangel @mattyskies @bakugouswaif @nonietosay @my-name-is-baby @tinythebunni @fratbrochrisgf @ariieeesworld @silkylovey @izumis-salty-penis @cameronsbabydoll @love-ella333 @haylorbestie @k4yr14

[cameronsbabydoll]

puppy reader being super happy and excited cause she’s seeing rafe for the first time in a few days and he’s super annoyed cause he has a migraine or something :(

-🕯️

puppy!reader getting too excited to see rafe! ۶ৎ

you’re practically vibrating.

you bounce on the balls of your feet, fingers twitching with the urge to grab him, hug him, bury your face in his chest like you always do. you haven’t seen him in days — actual days, which to you feels like a hundred years.

and now he’s here. in the doorway. arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes dull.

“hi!!” you chirp, breathless already, throwing yourself at him. “rafe, i missed you so—”

“can you not yell?”

you freeze mid-sentence, still half-wrapped around his neck. his voice is low, sharp like the edge of a knife, and his brows pinch like the sound of your joy physically hurt him.

“…s-sorry,” you mumble, deflating like a popped balloon as you slowly unwrap yourself from him.

he exhales, dragging a hand over his face. “migraine,” he mutters. “just… too much noise. too much everything.”

you nod, eyes watery, lip caught between your teeth like you’re trying not to cry — but he sees it.

“…shit. c’mere,” he sighs, voice softer now.

you crawl into his lap without a word, all your energy gone, quiet as you tuck your face under his chin. his hand runs up and down your back, slow and steady. “i didn’t mean to snap,” he murmurs, “just needed a second, pup.”

you sniff. “i just wanted to be happy to see you…”

“i know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your hair. “you always are.”