#pope obx fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harryspet · 24 days ago

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rough hands, soft chains [4] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, jealousy, DUBCON, oral sex, rafe is HUGE, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

a/n: I posted this drabble about readers' state of mind at the end of chapter 3 if you'd like read it before this chapter :)

In which everything is perfect, it's you and Rafe’s wedding shower, and nothing could possibly go wrong.

word count: 5.5k

rough hands, soft chains masterlist

“I hate this shit,” Rafe grumbled, fumbling with the engraved silver buckle that adorned his belt. You thought he looked handsome. His shirt was crisp and white, his leather blazer a deep charcoal with subtle western embroidery, and his dark-wash jeans looked expensive but well-worn enough to look natural on him. He looked like the perfect cowboy to you. He’d sat his deep brown hat on the edge of your freshly made bed before he plopped down next to it, “We should stay up here. Have Wheezie bring us food.”

"But it's our wedding shower," you murmured absentmindedly, your focus fixed on the precise sweep of your mascara wand. Each coat was deliberate, just enough to make your eyes stand out, but not so much that it overwhelmed the rest of your look.

“I never would’ve agreed to let Rose plan this if I-I …. if I knew there had to be an engagement party, bridal shower, wedding shower, and a rehearsal dinner before we even got to the actual wedding.”

“But you only get married once, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, baby,” Rafe continued, waving a hand dismissively, “But that’s not the point.”

You spent another five minutes adding blush and bronzer, then you spent a full ten minutes doing your lips, and you topped it off with a fine mist, locking everything into place. Your armor for the day. Rafe had begun pacing but that wasn’t out of the norm, “How do I look?” You asked when you finally revealed your carefully designed look to match the dress you and Sarah had bought together.

The dress was made of delicate lace, an ivory color, that gave a hint of the skin beneath. The bodice was fitted, hugging your curves, strapless and the skirt flowed softly from your waist, ending above your knees. It was completely romantic, in your opinion, and Sarah had begged you to get it.

At first, Rafe said nothing. His expression shifted, his brow knitting together, lips pressing into a firm line. His eyes locked onto you, dark and unreadable. He scratched at the back of his head, shifting his weight from foot to foot, a sign that something was brewing beneath his surface.

“Uh,” Rafe started, his eyes going wide, “Fuck …yeah, baby, you look fucking gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face, glossy lips pulled into a curve. You walked closer and Rafe placed his hands on your hips, “You think so?” You batted heavy eyelashes up at him, placing your hands on his chest. You felt his heart beating fast beneath your palm.

“Don’t do that,” Rafe smirked, leaning down until his breath was fanning over your face, “I’ll keep you up here, I will. Tie you down to the bed.”

“That will mess up my makeup.”

“Well, I was going to mess up your makeup either way. You can decide if it’s before or after the party.”

He didn’t wait for your response, leaning down to peck your lips. It was brief but soft and warm. You giggled when you opened your eyes, finding his lips glossy in the same shade of pink as yours.

You liked the version Rafe you’d gotten to know over the last two weeks. It made your heart race with anxiety to even think about him pinning you down on Ward’s desk. But your heart filled up when you thought about laying next to Rafe everyday after that. You felt broken, barely able to pull yourself out of bed, but he stayed with you. He made sure you ate, kept Rose from prying into your business, and brought you flowers nearly every other day, filling the surface of your antique dresser. You did your best to care for them, but only now were they beginning to wilt.

He wiped his lips with the sleeve of his suit jacket and you saw a bit of blush rise in his cheeks.

You pulled from him, crossing the room to your closet. You picked out the strappy heels that you’d also bought with Sarah. You came back to sit on your bed, leaning down to lace them onto your feet. Rafe rounded your footboard, hand hanging on the wood and upholstery.

“I’m excited,” You admitted, “I’m, like, nervous still. But it’s exciting.”

You glanced at him, finding his eyes fixed on your exposed legs, his eys trailing up to your thighs. It was a hungry look. He’d grown kinder but his appetite was still there. Part of you worried that his darker side might return, that he couldn’t contain his true nature, and it was a matter of time before he snapped. He held you tight at night, his fingers slipped into the front of your panties, oftentimes when you were still drowsy in the morning. He took your orgasms from you, as he always did, but he hadn’t pushed you again like that day two weeks ago.

“You should be excited,” He said, “We’re very close to life being exactly as it should be.”

You gave him an agreeing look. A honeymoon in Florida and then you and Rafe would have a whole house to yourself. A home. You didn’t know what you wanted from life before you met Rafe. You knew you wanted your Dad back but since you couldn’t have that, following his wishes would the next best thing. Maybe this was the best thing your father could’ve done for you.

“I’m excited to meet Kiara,” You said, finishing strapping your feet into your heels. You stood, taller than before, but still much shorter than Rafe.

“Kie?” Rafe’s brow raised and your heart stumbled, afraid that you had made a mistep, “What do you mean?”

Sarah had explained that Rafe didn’t necessarily like her friends but you also understood that Rafe didn’t like many things in general. You'd thought hard about it once. He liked you and Wheezie. He liked whiskey. He liked movies where guys raced fast cars. He liked riding his horse and working with his Dad. You couldn't come up with anything else.

"Sarah’s bringing her as a date," you said, your voice turning a little unsure. "And, um, I think her family is, like… catering the wedding? I think?"

You could feel him thinking deeply, “Interesting.” Was all he said.

That sounded neutral, right? Neutral was good. Safe.

You smiled, encouraged. "Oh! I was thinking it’d be fun if she came to my bachelorette too! So it’s not just me and Sarah."

“What about Wheeze?” He asked, voice deep and concerned.

“Oh,” You started, “Sarah thinks she’s too young.”

“Sarah,” he spoke his sister’s name like it was a cruse, “You know she’ll be pissed. And I don’t think Sarah should be planning anything for your day that isn’t appropriate for my little sister. I thought you guys were going to the spa or something.”

You took in all his words, beginning to feel guilty about not including Wheezie, “I can talk to Sarah,” You said, “I just don’t know what most girls do. Sarah seemed to have good ideas about fun things to do. And she said the spa ideas was, um, boring.”

“Sarah’s idea of fun should not be your idea of fun.”

Your brows furrowed. Now you were confused, “But …” Despite the time you had spent with him, you’d yet to learn how to successfully argue with him, “What’s my idea of fun then?”

Sometimes you liked when Rafe filled in all of your blanks. It kept you from thinking too much and overthinking always led to shallow breaths and watery eyes.

Rafe exhaled, like he’d already worked this all out in his head. “Something that involves Wheezie.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an answer. You nodded automatically. “Okay.”

It was a simple enough request. You’d just have to tell Sarah. And really, what was there to do in town, anyway? It wasn’t like you had a million options.

The backyard stretched endlessly, turing into rolling hills, and groves of towering pines. Edison bulbs twinkled above your head, shining light down onto long, wooden banquet tables. Dinner was over. Everyone was standing now, drinking glasses of wine, and talking in small groups. The Cameron’s knew a lot of people. People you didn’t even recognize from living here all your life. Rafe explained that they were business partners. A live band, one man with an acoustic guitar, the other with a fiddle played softly from a wooden platform.

You were at Rafe’s side for a majority of the night. A photographer also seemd to follow the two of you everywhere. Under Rose’s direction, you took posed photos under a floral arch with white roses, Montana wildflowers and fresh greenery. In one, Rafe tilted your chin up, kissing you so deeply that you thought your heart might explode.

The sky had darkened, the party continued to stretch into the night, and Rafe’s attention began to wander. He’d made it to his fifth bud light and now he was loudly talking into his friend, Kelce’s ear, his hand having left your hips moments before.

You decided to look for Sarah, slipping away because Rafe wasn’t paying attention to you anyways. Some people walked up to you to congratulate you, some to offer condolences, and some just stared.

You weren’t sure what to say to any of them. The words tangled somewhere in your throat, so you just smiled. Small, pretty, vacant. You scanned the crowd, searching for Sarah’s familiar silhouette, but all you found were unfamiliar faces, whispering in hushed voices as their eyes lingered on you just a second too long.

Once you made your way back inside, shuffling through servers in their bright white shirts, you found Wheezie standing in the foyer, her eyes fixed down on her phone, “Wheezie, have you seen Sarah?” You asked and she barely looked up.

“She left.”

You stomached dipped, “What do you mean?”

“Kiara and her walked out like twenty minutes ago. Think they went to the barn.”

“Oh," You tried to hide your disappointment with a small grin, “Why?”

“I don’t know why Sarah does anything she does,” Wheezie tilted her head, studying you, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go look for them.”

“Alone?” She inquired, “Rafe’s gonna come looking for you.”

“He’s busy, I think,” You said, “I’ll be back in like ten minutes anways!”

Although Wheezie didn’t look convinced, she didn’t stop you either. She simply hummed, shifting her focus back to her phone. You walked out the front door, feeling the cool night air on your skin. You decided to leave your heels behind, knowing they’d just get stuck in the mud. Rafe would notice you were gone, eventually, but still your feet carried you forward.

You recalled the first night you were here, when Rafe walked with you to the barn, and spread your legs on the floor of it. The other building, farther off in the distance, was the ranch hand’s quarters. You remembered that too.

You heard them before you saw them. Laughter. Sarah’s was unmistakable and you’d gotten used to John B’s voice as well but you hesitated at the barn’s open doors when you heard an unfamiliar male voice. Slowly, you peered inside. You spotted Sarah sitting on a bale of hay next to a girl with light brown skin and curly hair. Sarah had an entire bottle of wine in her hand and sipped from it casually.

Across from them stood John B. and a dark-skinned boy with a lean build and soft, deep brown eyes. Next to him was a boy whose sun-kissed blonde hair was kept in check by a weathered white cowboy hat. His skin was tanned and his smile was wide with mischief.

A strong smell hit your nose too, earthy and smoky. You assumed it came from the cigarette in John B.'s hand, or at least, you thought it was a cigarette.

It was too late to abort, because the blonde had spotted you and, in turn, all eyes turned to you. You wandered into the light of the barn awkwardly, your eyes meeting Sarah’s, her brown one’s lighting up with excitement, “Y/N!” She shouted, handing the wine bottle over to Kiara, and crossing the space to get to you. Her arms wrapped around your waist as she pulled you forward, “Guys, this is Y/N! Y/N, these are my friends I was telling you about.”

The group looked you over with curious eyes, their smiles friendly but tinged with cautious skepticism, as if still unsure of what to make of you.

She pointed them all out. Pope, JJ and Kiara. John B., you knew, of course. “Welcome,” John B. said.

“Hi,” You waved.

“You look so good!” Sarah exclaimed and you smelt the wine on her breath, “I was telling everyone how beautiful you are!”

“Thank you,” You smiled faintly, glancing over at Kiara, who gave you a soft, welcoming wave, “...Um, how come you guys didn’t come to the party?”

“Oh–” JJ started but Pope quickly interjected.

“It was a little too crowded,” Pope said, offering you an apologetic smile.

You nodded, accepting it, but your eyes couldn’t help but find JJ’s. His gaze was intense, but not in the way Rafe’s could be. It was the kind of stare that took you in without any hidden motive, no pressure. Just curiosity.

“Yeah,” Sarah chimed in, trying to ease the moment. “But I’m glad you came out here.”

“Rafe didn’t follow you, did he?” Kiara asked and you felt the tension that grew between the five of them.

“No,” You shook your head, “I didn’t say anything,” you assured them, looking at each of them with wide, innocent eyes.

“Good,” Sarah said in approval and your mood lightened.

JJ, however, seemed unfazed by the tension. He pushed past Pope, whose gaze had hardened slightly, as if issuing a warning that went unnoticed. JJ’s eyes were back on you, and his voice was playful as he moved closer, his grin widening. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Really?” You blinked, feeling a little taken aback.

“Yeah, word gets around,” JJ replied, his eyes scanning you again, like he was memorizing your every detail. You fidgeted with the edge of your lace dress, “And now I see why. You're hard to miss.”

“JJ,” John B. and Pope spoke at the same time.

“What? I was just about to offer our guest some refreshments,” He turned to look at them but his gaze was fixed back on you soon. He gestured to the makeshift bar sitting on top of one of the stall gates. A bottle of clear liquor, a six-pack of beers with only two beers left, and a dirty shot glass, “She’s the bride. Gotta make sure she has a good time.”

“You don’t have to drink anything,” Sarah said.

“She should at least have a shot,” JJ argued, “It’s her party, after all.”

You hesitated, but something about JJ’s easy confidence made the thought of refusing feel wrong. You didn’t want to come off as boring.

“JJ, don’t be weird,” Kiara spoke, sounding annoyed, “That’s Rafe’s fiance.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Big, bad, Rafe. I’m shaking in my boots,” You didn’t understand and your eyes darted between all of them before they landed back on JJ, “What do you say, Y/N? Celebratory shot?’

It was just a shot. Nothing crazy. Except you’d forgotten to eat in all the commotion and attention, and the alcohol immediately went to your head. Plus, it burned your throat. You coughed but JJ’s smiled wider, making you think that you’d done something right. Everyone else was watching you with interest.

Moments later, he was pouring you another and cracking open the rest of the beers, handing one to Kiara and then to Pope, “To new friends?” He raised his glass and you glanced around as everyone raised their respective glasses.

“To new friends,” The others answered reluctantly and tilted back their drinks. You downed the second shot, wincing as it went down, smoother than the first one but still awful.

Surprisingly, you heard Kiara laugh, “You’re brave for drinking out of that glass, girl.”

"You’re more fun than I expected, cowgirl," JJ said with a teasing grin, his voice low and smooth.

“That’s mean, JJ.” Kiara said.

“Seriously, you’re cool, how did you end up engaged to Rafe?”

"JJ," John B. warned, his voice a little sharp as he glanced at him.

To your surprise, Pope, who’d been mostly quiet up until now, chimed in with a serious look. “No, I think it’s a valid question.”

You froze for a second. It wasn’t like you could just come out and say, well, it’s complicated and totally a mess. You didn’t even know what was going on with Rafe half the time. You decided to shrug it off, “I’m still figuring things out,” You tried to sound casual, though your heart was pounding, “I mean, we’re figuring things out together.”

“Enough interrogating, guys,” John B. said and you were grateful.

You’d been gone for too long, anyways, “I should get back to the party. It was really nice meeting ya'll.”

“We’ll see you around then, Y/N,” Pope smiled at you and you couldn’t help but feel warm. Or maybe that was just the alcohol.

“Yeah,” you agreed. You turned to Kiara, “Kiara, I hope you can come to my bachelorette.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” She spoke in a way that made you think she might be coolest girl you’d ever met.

“Alright,” As you walked pass, Sarah grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. The warmth of her touch felt like a promise, like you’d just been accepted into something new, something different than what you were used to.

When you were back in the night, clear of the barn doors, you heard Pope’s voice loudly erupt, “Are you a fucking idiot, JJ?”

Back inside the house, you searched for Wheezie, wanting her to break the news to Rose that you wanted to retire for the night. The party could certainly go on without you seeing as you knew barely anyone here. Your eyes felt tired, and honestly you felt a little bit wobbly, “Wheezie,” You whispered, as you peaked around corners and opened all the downstairs doors, hoping to find her on her phone, “Wheeeeezie.”

You made your way upstairs next, deciding to check her room. The teenager’s room was completely empty and you let out a tired huff. You just needed to lay down for a second. As soon as you turned on your heel, Rafe appeared, tall legs hurrying up the stairs.

“Y/N,” His voice boomed as heavy as his steps, “Where you been?”

You tried to steady yourself but you stumbled backwards, “What’s going on, baby?” He caught you quickly, his voice softening. He held your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You leaned against the wall, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I just …wanted to get away from the party,” You spoke slowly, your head swimming, “I’m fine. Just sleepy.”

Rafe studied you for a moment longer, his brows furrowing as if piecing something together. He looked down at your feet, “You went outside. Where’s your shoes?”

“Downstairs somewhere. I guess I lost them,” You smiled weakly.

“Hmm,” He leaned down to kiss your lips and you accepted, your tongue dancing with his.

He pulled away, his eyes darkening, “You taste like vodka,” he murmured, his voice low and quiet. “Cheap vodka.”

“It’s a party, right?” You asked softly, “Our party.”

“I know they weren’t serving whatever you’ve been drinking. Tell me, what have you been doing? And with who?”

“I feel like … I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

His hand reached up, cupping your face with surprising tenderness. “I won’t be mad at you,” he said, his voice reassuring, though his eyes betrayed something darker. “But I need to know, darlin’. And I need you to be honest.”

You faltered, struggling with your words. “I don’t want you to be mad at anyone else either. Can we just go to bed?”

His jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. “Sarah,” he muttered, his voice low. “She gave it to you, didn’t she?”

“Wha–” You froze as Rafe’s jaw tightened, “It wasn’t her–”

“And you smell like fucking weed,” His face scrunched up and his voice turned low and painful.

"I smell like... a weed?" you asked, confused, the words coming out in a dazed haze as you tried to process his words.

“Fucking Pogues,” Rafe cursed and you yelped when his fist pounded against the wall beside your head, “Stay here. I’ll deal with this.”

You reached out to grab his arm, your fingers trembling against tense muscles beneath his skin, “Wait. No, no, no, stay here with me.”

He grabbed you next, and lifted you off your feet as he dragged you across the hallway. You tried to pull away, to get him to let you go, but his grip tightened. "Rafe, please!" you cried, struggling to free yourself, but it was futile. His hold on you was ironclad.

"Stay the fuck in here. I’ll be right back," he commanded, his voice colder than ice as he forced you into his room. The door slammed shut and then there was a wall between the two of you. The click of the lock followed and you stumbled back, your heart racing.

You heard his footsteps retreat, a few heavy thuds followed by the faint sound of him calling out to someone. You pressed your ear against the door, straining to hear anything, but it was quiet for a moment.

You hurried towards the window, pressing your palms against the cool glass as you looked down toward the front of the house. Through the dim light spilling from the porch, you could see a trio of men walking in a purposeful, determined line away from the house.

He’ll be right back. You doubted that. You should’ve laid down then. But you did your best to undo the zipper of your dress, needing more room to breathe, before you wandered into Rafe’s closet. You pushed a mountain of clothes to the side, settling in the corner, and cried your makeup away.

How did you manage to mess up everything with Sarah, her friends, and Rafe all in one night? Why did you have to ruin everything?

It wasn’t the first time Rafe had blown up at Sarah. She often stood in the way of everything he wanted in life. Ward loved her more than him, for some unknown reason that baffled Rafe the more he tried to understand it. This night was about him and you and yet Sarah and her pogue friends had to crash their party. Rafe couldn’t have one thing that was just his. Now she was trying to corrupt you, his sweet and clueless bride.

“Where’s the rest of your friends?” Rafe asked when he and his friends found just John B., Kiara and Sarah in the barn, “They run? Huh?”

Sarah rolled her eyes, hard, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t mess with me, Sarah.”

“What? Did you snort too many lines tonight?”

Rafe imagined his hands around her throat. He squeezed his fist tight, examining the scene before him, assessing what exactly he could get away with in this moment. Soon, someone would notice that both Rafe and his future bride had disappeared from their own party. He was on thin ice with Ward already.

Kiara shifted, stepping in front of Sarah like some kind of shield. “Back off, Rafe.” Her voice was steady, but he could see the way her hands clenched into nervous fists.

Rafe let out a cold laugh, pointing straight at his sister, his gaze razor-sharp. “I’ll make every last one of your little Pogue friends miserable, you hear me?” His voice was low, dangerous, a promise rather than a threat. “I’m gettin’ the company, the money, the influence, every goddamn thing. Cameron Ranch pays all their fucking bills, and you know it. You think Heyward’s could run without us? Kie, your parents buy their beef from us, same as every other rich asshole in this town. Y’all survive because we let you…and you …”

Rafe turned towards John B., “You know better. No one else in this town would have you on with your history. And your friend, JJ, if I find out he put one finger on her. I’ll fucking kill him.” His voice dropped to a whisper, seething with a quiet rage.

It was a promise. His blood boiled at the idea of JJ’s eyes on you. He would’ve killed him if the pogue hadn't been smart enough to run. That’s why he left you in his room, he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself if he saw him.

“That’s enough!” Sarah shouted, her expression twisted in frustration, “Stop, Rafe. You got your point across.”

“Nothing even happened, asshole,” Kiara said.

“Like he should believe that,” Topper scoffed, speaking up, “Dirty pogues.”

“Let it go,” John B. said, “Before you do something you regret, man.”

Rafe nodded, jaw tight. He considered them lucky. Damn lucky. They were on his property, his land, trespassing, he had every right to go after them, “Keep your friends away from Y/N,” Rafe said to his sister, “I’m serious.”

“You can’t control who she’s friends with!”

“I promise you won’t like it if you push me on this one, Sarah,” With one last glance at Sarah, he turned on his heel, heading back toward the house, back toward something far more important, back towards you.

Rose ripped into him, of course, after the happy couple completely abandoned their own wedding shower. He would’ve preferred his father’s yelling over hers. She cornered him in the foyer, before he could climb the stairs, and Rafe started to feel a headache coming on. It was then he remembered the beers and the fact that he was not even close to sober. It wasn’t his fault the night ended in disaster. He’d done his part, networked, kept up appearances, and even posed for a million photos. The Pogues showing up and manipulating his fiance into getting drunk was out of his control.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Wheezie peaking from the bannister upstairs. She was eavesdropping, of course. He apologized to Rose instead of raising his voice. She continued. He apologized five more times. She didn’t accept, he didn’t expect her to. She threw up her hands in exhaustion, said she was going to talk to Ward, and then stormed off.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe climbed the stairs.

His nosy little sister asked, “Why is Y/N crying in your room? She sounds like a kicked puppy.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. Great.

“Ask Sarah,” Rafe spoke curtly, annoyed. He reached into his pocket for his keys.

“Sarah?”

“Goodnight, Wheezie.” Was all he said before he unlocked his bedroom door, pushed inside, and slammed it shut.

He understood immediately what Wheezie meant by you sounding like a kicked puppy. You weren’t where he expected you'd be but it didn’t take long to narrow down where you were. He gave himself a few minutes to collect himself, bracing for your torrent of emotions, bracing for the anger you probably felt towards him.

Being mad at him would be useless in the end. Rafe had decided the two of your belonged together. He certainly didn’t believe in soulmates but he understood ownership and possession. Whatever it was, the two of you would work for it, because you belonged to him.

He found you, head in your hands, shaking like a leaf. He kicked off his boots, lowered down to the ground, and moved next to you, “Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” You said immediately, your voice pitiful.

“You’re sorry, baby?” It wasn’t the reaction he expected from you but he leaned into it, “You’re sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry for,” You hiccuped, “For drinking. I don’t know why I did it. I just …”

“You want Sarah to like you,” Rafe filled in your often incomplete thoughts and you finally looked up. Despite the streaked mascara and smudged lipstick, he thought you looked gorgeous.

“Yeah … I shouldn’t, right?” You asked hesitantly, "You know, sometimes it feels like everyone knows what’s going on except me. I think she thinks I’m stupid and she’d be right.. I can’t even take care of myself.”

“Look, I’m not happy with Sarah but I know she doesn’t think that,” Rafe assured you, but made sure to add on, “And you shouldn’t care what she thinks. She hangs out with a bunch of lowlifes. She’s going nowhere. You, baby, have so much potential. So what, you don’t know everything, but you don’t need to take care of yourself. How many times do I have to tell you? That’s my job.”

Rafe watched you nod your head, eyes still watery, “My Dad wanted it.”

“He did,” Rafe agreed, “I don’t like to see you like this …things will be better when we have our own house. Our own family. I know it will.”

“Was she upset?” You wiped your own tears, “When you went out there…”

“You’re too sweet for your own good.”

He was watching you closely now, scanning your body language, gauging whether you were on the verge of a panic attack. This moment, it was an opportunity for him. Somehow, despite everything, he wasn’t the bad guy in this situation. Maybe it was the trust he’d built with you over the last two weeks, maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, he wasn’t about to let it slip through his fingers.

“C’mere,” He reached for you, fingers wrapping around your wrists, guiding you toward him. You shuffled forward onto your knees, letting him pull you closer. His hands slid to your hips, gripping firmly as he positioned you over his lap, your legs straddling his. Now, you were right where he wanted you, face to face, eyes locked, nowhere to hide.

“She was upset,” he admitted, his thumbs smoothing slow circles against your sides. “But not as upset as me.”

You blinked, lips parting slightly.

“It wasn’t just the drinking,” he continued, voice low and steady. “It was who you were drinking with. You were with them. Without me.” His jaw tensed. “Knowing that those dirty Pogues got to look at you, be near you-” He inhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You’re the most beautiful thing in my life. I don’t think it’s selfish to want you to myself.”

Shame flickered across your features.

“I wasn’t thinking,” You murmured and part of Rafe’s mind, the sick part, rejoiced, “I’m so sorry.”

A weak smile tugged at his lips, “I forgive you, baby. I’m not mad anymore. At all. “

He kept his voice reassuring, his words gentle, but his touch was anything but.

“What makes them so bad, Rafe?” You asked curiously, your voice barely above a whisper, “They didn’t look that dirty to me.”

“Not tonight, I don’t want to talk about them,” Rafe ran his hands over your thighs, traveling beneath the skirt of your dress, before he gripped a handful of your ass in his hands, “I wanna teach you something.”

“Mhm,” You hummed as Rafe leaned into your neck, kissing you softly. You were so responsive, even in this fragile state.

“I know how you can make it up to me.”

Rafe felt you tense when you felt it, the growing hardness that was currently being restrained by his zipper. Barely contained. He leaned his head down, just as he moved his hands to your breast. He squeezed tightly, savoring the handful, “Rafe …I-I–I don’t know.”

He did wonder how far he could push you before you couldn’t take it anymore. But he remembered how much further he’d gotten with you being a little more gentle, “Don’t worry,” He assured you, “I’m going to teach you how to use your mouth on me. It won’t hurt at all.”

“It won’t? But …. But it can’t fit in my mouth.”

Patience, he reminded himself.

“I’ll show you,” Rafe pressed his thumb against your soft lips, “Open, baby.”

Rafe saw it in your eyes, the hesitance, the fear but he kept his touch soft. He brushed your tongue, “Suck on my finger,” You closed your mouth around his finger and when he felt your teeth scrape his skin, he added, “But don’t bite. No teeth. That’s lesson number one.”

He moved his thumb slowly in and out of your mouth, allowing you practice. The way your wide eyes were fixed on him, looking for his approval, was probably the sexiest thing he’d seen you do. And you were his, “Good girl, darlin’” he praised, and your lashes fluttered at the words.

He promised to take it slow and was a man of his word. He gave you plenty of practice before the real thing. You were right, he couldn’t fit inside your mouth. Most of him. But he taught you how to hold him, how to stroke him, how to keep touching him in the moments where your mouth got too tired. That was lesson two. Just the tip this time, you could handle that. He had been holding off for two weeks, and it wouldn’t take much.

And when the moment finally came, when his release spilled hot and thick onto your tongue, Rafe taught you lesson number three.

“You never spit, baby,” he murmured, his thumb grazing your swollen lips. “My cum is your reward for all your hard work. You swallow all of it.”

And when you did, although your face scrunched at the unfamiliarity of it, Rafe pressed a slow, claiming kiss against your lips.

hope you enjoyed!!

#rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #dark fic #rafe obx #black!reader #rafe cameron x black!reader #sarah cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x reader #pope heyward #john b routledge

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mrsbarnesblog · 9 months ago

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OBX p!links

+18 only, graphic content

masterlist

Rafe Cameron

xxx - best friend! Rafe convinced you to only rub his cock against your pussy but he couldn’t help himself

xxx - best friend! Rafe shows you how you should be treated when you come crying to him after your boyfriend cheated on you

xxx - Rafe makes you watch the way his cock stretches your pussy

xxx - college!gamer!Rafe fucks you with his mic on because you distracted him during the game

xxx - Rafe suggests driving you to work in the morning but instead ends up fingering you in the front seat of his truck

xxx - Rafe’s happy to eat you out at any time of the day

xxx - Rafe films the way you take his cock and sends it to your shitty ex

xxx - Rafe fucks you in your childhood bedroom when you visit your parents on holidays

xxx - enemy! Rafe teases your pussy with his cock until you can't do nothing but beg him to fuck you

xxx - personal trainer! rafe gives you backshots in the staff room

xxx - Rafe fucks you on the couch in the living room of Tanneyhill, even though his family is about to get back home any minute

xxx - riding your roommate’s dick just because you both single and it just feels to good

xxx - Rafe flies you out to Bahamas on his private jet and you fuck like a rabbit’s just because you can

xxx - yours and Rafe's first picnic date

xxx - your sneaking into your best friend’s brother’s room so he could fuck you while she’s taking a shower

xxx - fucking with Rafe during the party in someone else’s room

JJ Maybank

xxx - you and JJ sneaked away from the rest of the group so you could ride his cock

xxx - fucking JJ in a John B's van

xxx - JJ cannot be serious even when he’s balls deep inside of you

xxx - JJ fucks your brains out because he thinks that you were flirting with Topper at the party

xxx - your friend JJ likes to play with your pussy when you two hang out

xxx - grinding on JJ’s thigh because you’re too horny and he likes to watch you being desperate for his cock

Pope Heyward

xxx - you and Pope are having fun in an expensive ass hotel with a beautiful view on the beach

xxx - Pope finally fucks kook! reader who’s been teasing him for a few months

xxx - you give Pope his first blow job

xxx - Pope fucks you from the back while you choke on John B’s cock

Barry

xxx - Barry fucks you in the back seat of your car because you owe him some money

xxx - Barry has a soft spot for kook! reader so he likes to pound your pretty pussy in his trailer

xxx - Barry likes to use rich! kook! reader’s body

#rafe x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron x you #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback smut #jj smut #pope heyward smut #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward x y/n #barry obx #barry obx x reader #barry obx smut #obx smut #p!link #rafe fanfiction #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #p links

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maybejj · 1 month ago

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masterlist

TWIN FLAMES

baby!daddy!rafe x pogue!reader

ex lovers, co-parenting, pogue/kook relationship

social media au, 18+ mdni

summary: You and Rafe were the couple that no one saw coming. The kook king and the pogue princess falling in love was a shock to the whole island. The pogues questioned your relationship, the kooks despised it, and Ward took extreme measures to tear you two apart every chance he got. It was only a matter of time before the pressure caused the relationship to break. The constant arguing, the yelling, it all became too much. Rafe turned to drugs and you isolated yourself from everyone until there was too much damage to repair. But life has a funny way of bringing two souls back together. In this instance, in the form of a three year old little boy.

Part 1 ≫ Part 2 ≫ Part 3 ≫

Part 4 ≫ Part 5 ≫ Part 6 ≫

Part 7 ≫ Part 8 ≫ Part 9 ≫

Part 10 ≫ Part 11 ≫ Part 12 ≫

Part 13 ≫

EXTRAS

theo headcanons throughout the years

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love4pascal · 3 months ago

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SMAU: Instagram posts with bsf!Rafe: Part three!

Rafe x Pogue bsf!reader

An: OMG we’ve made it to part three?? I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is appreciated 🩵🤍.

TAGLIST: @justsomerandompersonintheworld

#rafe cameron #sarah miller #john b routledge #jj maybank #kiera carrera #pope heyward #barry obx #rafe smau #rafe x pogue!reader #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #obx season 4 #obx smau #obx fic #love4pascal

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somethingswift19 · 29 days ago

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Your Sabrina Carpenter Song

Guy I’m trying to get better at posting I swear!!! If anyone has any requests please comment or message me!!! Btw Topper is so Sabrina Coded however Please Please Please should be one of Rafe’s Theme songs and I’ll die on that hill! Either way enjoy! Hope everyone’s having a great day!!! :)

Rafe: Please Please Please

JJ: Lie To Girls

John B: Taste

Pope: Good Graces

Topper: Because I Liked A Boy

Kelce: Feather

Barry: Bed Chem

Kiara: Juno

Sarah: Espresso

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princessmaybank · 1 year ago

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Outer Banks P!Links PT2

Here's Part 1: P!Links

*Once again: I'm aware some of them look nothing like them, but that's okay, it's all for fun*

WARNINGS: MDNI, THIS IS 18+, PORN LINKS

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

~A lot more than last time! Please enjoy! I didn't check to see which was already used, so I'm sorry if there are repeats from the last post!~

JJ:

Him Pounding Into You

Riding JJ While He Plays With Your Tits

Soft Fuck With JJ

Jacking Him Off

Teasing Him With Your Pussy

Riding Tatted JJ

69 Tatted JJ

4 Fingers

Oral And Riding By The Pool

Wants To Try Something From Your Book

Rubbing Your Pussy

Rafe:

Tatted Rafe POV

Cumming On Your Stomach

Hitting It From Behind

Riding Him

Gently Playing With You

Fucking You Outside

Fingering Then Fucking You

Slapping Your Pussy On The Way To Midsummers

Rubbing You Until You Can't Take It

Bent Over His Lap

Anal By The Pool

John B:

Sucking His Dick In The Twinkie

Playing With You

Couldn't Resist You

Having Some Fun With Kiara

Parking Garage Fun

Tatted JB, Playing With Each Other

Making A Mess In Your Panties

Using His Dick While He Plays His Game

Sitting On His Face By The Pool

Upside Down 69

Dicking You Down While JJ Drives

Pope:

Tatted Pope, Waking You Up

Bouncing On His Dick

He Asked For A Handjob

Jacking Him Off Then Riding Him

Under His Desk While He Studies

Fucks You In Your PJ's

Bouncing You Back

Tatted Pope Fucking You On The Counter

Anal From The Back

School Girl Fantasy

Riding Pope On The Couch

Bonus:

Kiara Eating You Out

Eating Out Tatted Cleo

Tribbing With Sarah

Tatted JJ & Rafe Sharing You

Playing With Sarah's Pussy

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mayanneaa · 4 months ago

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hits different - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.

PAIRING : jj maybank x ex!reader

SUMMARY : jj broke up with you two months ago, but this one party makes him truly realize what he’s done.

WARNING(S) : swearing, jealous and super drunk jj, a little angst, fluff, minimal use of y/n (like once), might have some grammar errors, english is not my first language

A/N : first fic on here heheh obv inspired by 'hits different' by taylor swift. i recommend listening to it while reading :) dividers by @roseraris !! not proofread dont kill me

WC : 1.7k

masterlist.

After a fourth beer, the party got too loud and the lights too bright. Normally, in a moment like this, he would run to you, wrap his arms around you, and inhale your sweet, calming scent. Just as he’s about to do it, the realization hits him like one of the waves nearby.

You aren’t together anymore.

He sharply inhales and looks around. His vision is softly spinning, but it’s no problem for him. JJ spots you in a second. With another boy.

You two are just talking. You don’t even know this guy, he came up to you to ask about something so random it got lost in your chat long ago. You give him one of those kind smiles, and JJ feels his fists clench. “Fuck.”

The music changes. As if he wasn’t already miserable, the speakers let out the first notes of your song. The one he first kissed you to. The one you two always played, alone at the chateau dancing on the back porch.

The memories flood his mind, and he can’t take it anymore. Jj feels his heartbeat loud in his ears, and he wants to leave. To go to any of the pogues, or, even better, drive away in the Twinkie. But his eyes cannot move from your face, and his legs just don’t work.

It baffles him. Not once in his life, he couldn’t move on. But this time, with you, it's different. It hits different.

You finally catch him. The guy is still talking to you, but your attention is on the other side of the beach. Before you can interrupt, you see John B. coming up to JJ. He tells him something, grabs his arm, and leads his best friend somewhere. You feel your heart sink. “Are you okay?” you hear the guy ask, making you turn your head.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” you quickly say, leaving him alone. You have to find JJ.

“Dude, stop this shit right now,” John B.’s holding the steering wheel, making his way to the Chateau. JJ's taken the passenger seat, shoulders slumped, and he runs his hand through the blonde strands.

"Yeah, easy for you to talk." he snarls, "You and Sarah are all happy together, you don't know how it's like-"

"I don't know because I don't just randomly break up with my girl over a bad day I had." John B. cuts him off and lets out a deep sigh. "JJ, you should talk to her. Everyone's done. You are constantly miserable."

JJ doesn't say anything. The words hit him like a slap, unnecessarily hurtful. Outside the window he sees the familiar place - they are at the Chateau.

"Get some rest, okay?" John B opens the door and helps JJ get in the house. "Call me in case something happens."

The blonde nods his head and plops on the couch, legs stretched out. Minutes pass, and he finds himself whispering your name, over and over again, as if he's scared he'll forget it.

His mind still replays that cold May night.

You two agreed to meet at the dock. The wind softly overflowed your face as you were waiting for him. When he finally came, you felt something was wrong. His usual smile was gone, and he didn't even look at you. You hugged yourself in your hoodie, "JJ? Is everything alright?"

He let out a shaky breath, leaning over the railings. "I think we should break up."

You blinked in surprise, your heart feeling heavy. "What?"

Your voice sounded smaller than you intended. You reached out for his hand, your own shaking.

"It will be better for both of us." JJ dismissively said, swallowing hard. A shiver ran down his body, and his throat tightened, but he brushed it off.

You felt so much hitting you. Tears burned under your eyelids, and anger started to bubble up. Did you do something? Or maybe he just decided you weren't good enough for him anymore?

"No," you whispered at first, but your voice was growing louder, "You don't get to just... just decide on my behalf!"

The moonlight fell on his face, and you tried to find any answers in his eyes. He stiffened, shaking his head before he repeated, "It will be better if we end it now."

You opened your mouth, but not a word came out. The tears threatening to fall finally flooded your face, a quiet scoff escaping your lips. "I can't believe this. This is how much it meant for you?"

You were met with silence. The atmosphere on the dock could be cut with a knife, and you couldn't just stand here. Before you registered it, your legs led you down, far from your boy- well... ex-boyfriend. JJ's eyes followed your every step. He wanted to run after you, to wrap you in his arms and never let you go. But he didn't.

It wasn't just a one-day whim he had. It stuck with him ever since you two decided to make it official. It grew with every late night you spent not on something you like, but on cleaning him up after another fight. You didn’t say anything—but he knew. He knew that sooner or later, it will be too much. He will be too much to handle.

The sweetest girl walking on the earth, a literal angel and him. A failure, a Pogue whose fate it was to end up just like his father—always drunk, always angry.

His heart ached at this thought. You had so many opportunities, and if you decided to let it go because of him, he would never forgive himself.

Breaking up before he got even more attached was for the better. It had to be. Right?

JJ doesn’t know how long he’s been lying like this. His breathing is now steady and slow, and he has to remind himself to breath in again.

He closes his eyes, but can’t escape you. The memories come fast—not giving him much time for defense.

Your face. Always in the sun, glowing as if you were a goddess. The lips glossed from the cherries you’ve been eating. Your eyes, the creases forming in the corners almost constantly from smiling.

Your touch. All these quick brushes, the way you traced your soft fingertips over his forearm every time you sat nearby. The long, tight hugs during which JJ’s hands wrapped your waist, him hungrily inhaling your perfume.

His breath hitches. Is it truly the best this way?

Before he can answer, the quiet crack of a key opens the door. He darts up and immediately regrets it, as the whole room starts spinning.

“JJ?” he hears a soft whisper, and his heart skips a beat.

The warm lights of the Chateau reveal your face. He feels the heat rising to his cheeks, “What are you doing here?”

His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. You step closer, with a cautiousness that kills something inside him. He avoids your gaze, staring at the suddenly interesting floor.

“You’re not doing great, huh?” you say, but there’s no mockery or anger in your voice. There’s just… worry.

JJ turns around on his heels and sits down on couch, fearing that if he stands for a minute longer, he might just fall. He runs a hand through his hair, a habit that intensified over the two months.

“Stop it, Y/N.” he finally replies looking at you for the first time. The light reflects of his watery eyes, and his voice breaks when he continues, “Go back to the party and your new stupid little boyfriend.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you fussing over me talking to a guy after you broke up with me?”

JJ shakes his head, looking at the floor again, “Doesn’t matter. Not anymore, I guess. You really should go—”

“Why did you end this?”

The question feels like an arrow through his heart. You’re standing with your hands crossed, not planning on going anywhere. “Why, J? We were happy. Did I do something…?”

“It wasn’t you.” In the response, he hears a snort.

Your gaze is heavy, with your eyebrows arched up. “Classic. Then what was it, JJ?” The tone of your voice is pushing, and you don’t even try to control it, “What happened that you decided to just leave me?”

“I was scared!” he snaps before he can think of anything better to say. “How do you imagine it? You… you can’t suffer with me forever. It’ll break you one day and—”

“JJ.”

The way you say his name pulls him out of the spiral. It slips off your tongue smoothly, just like it used to. You grip his arm, and JJ forgets what he was even talking about.

“You don’t get to make this decision without talking to me. Did you ever asked me how I feel about this?”

A blush creeps up on his cheeks, and whether you want it or not, the corners of your lips rise.

He tries to make any sense, the tears dangerously close to falling. “I mean— You deserve someone better. Someone who will keep you safe and… I’m not that person. And I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

You sigh. “Maybe. But I don’t want anyone better, baby. I want you. That’s my decision.”

With these words, with what you called him, his walls crash. You pull him closer, your bodies touching and he can’t take it anymore. JJ lets out a muffled sob into the crook of your neck, gripping you like he’s never letting you go.

Your fingers find their way up to his hair, running through the golden strands as he’s shaking.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry. So sorry—”

“Shhh,” You draw small circles on his back, and his breath slows down after some time. “We will talk about it tomorrow, ’kay? You’re super drunk right now.”

“Promise you won’t leave.” JJ sniffles, the tip of his nose pink. You giggle, but he pulls away to look at you, a serious expression on his face. “I’m not joking! Promise me you’ll still be here in the morning. Please.”

You gently squeeze his shaking hand and can’t help but smile. “I promise.”

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insidekatmind · 3 months ago

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Kiara who?-Pope Heyward

Wearning:+18,smut

You're sitting on Pope's couch, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed as you watch him pacing nervously back and forth across the room.

"Y/N, you don’t understand! I had to do it, or she’d never notice me!" Pope exclaims defensively.

"Oh, sure, because stealing your dad’s boat is the best way to impress Kiara," you reply sarcastically, a hint of frustration in your voice. "Do you realize how stupid that was? If you’d been caught, what would you have done?!"

Pope stops in his tracks and looks at you, his face flushed with emotion but tinged with embarrassment. "You don’t understand how important this is to me… Kiara is special."

You sigh, shaking your head. "I know she is, Pope. But you’re Pope! You don’t need to do crazy things to prove who you are. If she doesn’t see how amazing you already are, then she doesn’t deserve you."

Pope's irritation boiled over, and he finally snapped. "You think it's easy for me? You have no idea what it's like to be the smart guy, the one everyone expects to have it all together. But no matter how hard I study or how many APs I ace, I’m not the guy girls like Kiara notice. I’m just Pope, the guy they call when they need tutoring or a study partner."

You get even more angry at his words as you can't believe that he only sees this. You get up from the couch and walk over to him. “You're an idiot if you only see this about yourself” you blurt out looking at him. "and it's not just Kiara on this damned island"

Pope is taken aback by your sudden outburst and your proximity, but he can’t ignore the passion in your voice. He opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. "You think you’re not enough for anyone, but that’s the farthest thing from the truth. You’re smart, loyal, and kind. And, believe it or not, you’re also really cute. There’s a lot more to you than just being the smart guy."

Pope’s anger and defensiveness soften slightly as he absorbs your words. He looks at you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of sarcasm or pity, but he finds none. "You really mean that?" he asks hesitantly, vulnerability creeping into his voice.

You take a step closer to him, closing the remaining distance between you. "I do. You don’t have to steal a boat or do anything crazy just to get someone’s attention. You’re already amazing as you are," you reply firmly, but with a hint of tenderness.

Pope’s heart races as your proximity. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, and your words wash over him like a soothing balm to his wounded ego."I… I guess I just get tired of feeling like no one sees me for me, “ he admits, his voice quiet. "It’s like I have to do something crazy just to prove that I’m worth noticing."

You reach out and place a comforting hand on his arm, your touch gentle but deliberate. "You don’t have to do anything except be yourself, Pope. You’re worthy of attention and love just as you are. Screw Kiara, you don't need her."

His eyes widen slightly at your words, and a flicker of surprise crosses his face, surprised by how strongly you seem to feel about this. But he can’t help the flutter in his chest at your touch.

"I’ve never heard it put that way," he admits reluctantly, his words barely above a whisper. "I guess I’ve just been so caught up in trying to impress Kiara… I didn’t realize how much it was consuming me.”

You step even closer, your body almost pressed against his. "You don’t have to impress anyone, Pope. And definitely not Kiara," you say firmly, your grip on his arm tightening slightly. "You just have to be the amazing person you already are."

Pope’s breath hitches in his throat as he feels your body against his own. The heat from your skin seems to burn through his clothes, and his heart races in his chest. "How do you know that?" he asks quietly, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability and longing.

You move your hand from his arm to his cheek, gently cupping it. “I just do,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, your touch sending shivers down his spine. “You’re more than just the smart guy, Pope. You’re everything.”

His breath hitches again as your touch ignites a fire inside of him, a fire he didn’t even know existed. Your words hit him like a tidal wave, and he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You… you really think so?” he asks softly, his gaze fixated on yours, searching for any hint of dishonesty or pity.

Your fingers continue to trace his jawline, the delicate touch sending electric shocks down his spine. Your eyes are locked with his, and you can see the mix of surprise, hope, and vulnerability etched in his expression."I do," you assure him adamantly. "I see all of these things in you, Pope. Trust me."

The fire inside him burns hotter with each passing second, and he can’t remember ever feeling like this before. Your touch, your words, your presence… They’re all intoxicating, leaving him breathless and wanting more.“But… why?” he asks weakly, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “Why do you see all that in me?”

Your hand moves from his jaw to the nape of his neck, threading into his hair and pulling him closer. You’re so close now that your bodies are practically touching, the heat from his skin mixing with your own. "Because it’s the truth," you reply simply, your voice barely above a whisper. "Because I see you for who you really are."

He feels lightheaded from your proximity, your touch, your words. It’s all too much, but oh, how he wants more. He can’t help but take a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you. "And who am I, really?"Pope asks looking at your lips. He breathes, his gaze still fixed on yours, his body feeling like it’s on fire.

Your heart races in your chest at the proximity, your bodies now pressed flush together. Your hand in his hair pulls him closer, your fingers tangling in the locks. “You’re kind,” you murmur, your breath brushing against his lips. “Intelligent. Loyal. Strong. Funny…”Your words are cut off by the unexpected press of Pope’s lips against yours.

His body fully pressing you against the wall. The kiss sparks like a live wire, a mixture of passion and suppressed emotions igniting between you both. Your head spins, and you gasp in surprise before melting into the kiss, your hand still tangled in his hair and the other fisting his shirt.

Pope’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His hands explore your body, tracing your curves and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The kiss deepens, and he can’t get enough of you, his tongue pushing past your lips. His body pressing more against yours, his grip on you tight. He can’t help but release a low moan against your lips.

You gasp into the kiss and cling to him as he kisses you back with even more passion. Pope’s lips devour yours with a new fervor, his hand moving to cup your face, angling your head for better access to your mouth. His body is flush against yours, pressing you tight against the wall. He releases another low moan, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

Pope's hands roam your body with a newfound confidence, Pope picks you up, making you wrap your legs around his hips and without breaking the kiss. He he quickly maneuvers you onto the couch. You straddle him, your legs on either side of his hips, and he pulls you even closer, his body heat radiating into you. His hands find their way under your shirt, tracing patterns on your bare skin.

You moan into the kiss from the position and cling to him, kissing him with your tongue. Pope responds eagerly, his tongue meeting yours in an intimate dance. He kisses you deeply, savoring the taste of your mouth. His hands continue to explore your bare skin under your shirt, running up your sides and caressing your back. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, a silent request.

You break away from the kiss to take off your shirt and shorts. Pope’s breath hitches in his throat as you undress, his eyes roaming over your body with a mixture of awe and desire. He eagerly helps you remove his shirt, throwing it to the floor before pulling you on top of him. The feeling of your bare skin against his sends sparks through him, and he grabs you, rolling you onto your back and pinning you against the cushions.

Pope’s lips move from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and small, gentle bites along your exposed skin. His hands continue to roam your body, caressing and exploring every dip and curve with a newfound hunger. He positions himself between your legs, his body almost completely covering yours, and nips at the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

You moan into his touch and arch for him, “Pope” you moan looking up at him.

Pope’s heart skips a beat at the sound of you saying his name, his own name on your lips sending heat rushing straight to his core. He looks down at you, drinking in the sight of you writhing beneath him, his eyes dark with desire.

“Say it again,” he requests hoarsely, his voice low and gravelly. “Say my name again.”

You’re breathless, your body on fire from his touch, and the sound of his own plea only fuels the heat coursing through you. Your hands grip his biceps, holding on for dear life as you arch into him, your bodies flush against each other. “Pope,” you repeat breathlessly, your voice a low, ragged whisper of need. “Pope, please…”

The sound of his name on your lips, coming out of you in such a wanton, pleading tone, drives him wild with want. He captures your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth hungrily. His hands roam your body with an unbridled urgency, tracing every contour, caressing every inch he can reach. He pulls away from the kiss just long enough to reply, his voice thick with need: “I want everything,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “I want you.”

Something snaps in you when you hear his words and feel his breath on your skin. A primal, animalistic need takes over, and you pull Pope down onto you, flipping your positions so you’re now on top of him. You press your body flush against his, and he lets out a gasp of surprise at the unexpected change in position. Your lips crash into his, the kiss hungry and desperate, as your hands roam his body, mapping out every plane and contour.

Pope quickly frees himself from his shorts and boxers and takes off your underwear and immediately enters you feeling the need to feel you. You both moan into the kiss. The moment of entry brings a low, guttural moan from the both of you, and Pope clutches at you as if he can't bear to be even an inch away from you. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, as he wraps his arms around you, holding you in place against him. He meets your gaze, his eyes dark and blazing with lust, and he gasps out your name hoarsely. “You feel so good,” he murmurs.

You moan feeling his thrusts inside you. “You are so big Pope” you murmur holding onto him trying to get more. The combination of your words and the feel of your hands on him drive Pope to the edge. He responds to your murmur by thrusting deeper, his body moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm that drives you both wild with desire. “You like that?” he asks, his voice a low, guttural growl, as he buries his face into your neck and kisses the sensitive skin there.

You moan in response and scratch his back. “So good,” you say, your voice cracking with moans. Every moan, every gasp of pleasure from your lips only serves to fuel the fire inside of him even more. Pope buries his lips and teeth into the junction of your shoulder and neck, leaving a mark of possession behind. His hands grip your hips, guiding your movements and helping you meet his rhythm.

“You’re mine,” he grits out against your skin, his words punctuated by a sharp thrust. “Say it.” You moan excited by his being dominant. You had never seen Pope like this and you loved it.

“I'm yours Pope, all yours” you moan as you continue to scratch his back from the pleasure he was giving you. Your confirmation that you are his and only his sends a thrill through Pope that he’s never experienced before. A mixture of dominance and possessiveness takes over him, and he tightens his grip on your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin.

“Damn right you are,” he growls, the sound low and primal. “You’re mine, and I’m never letting go.” His words make you shiver in anticipation, and you arch into him as he pistons into you, wanting to feel every inch of him. Your own hands roam over his back, grabbing and clutching at the skin anywhere you can reach, your nails leaving deep scratches behind.

“Harder,” you gasp into his ear, your voice an octave higher than normal with need. “Please, Pope.” Pope doesn’t need to be told twice.

The command on your lips, the need in your voice, only serve to stoke the fire within him. He growls out your name, his hands gripping onto you even tighter as he obliges and quicken the pace. He kisses, bites, and licks every piece of skin he can reach, leaving a trail of fire and desire in his wake.

The change in pace sends waves of pleasure through you, and you arch your back with a guttural moan. The sensations are overwhelming, and your nails dig into his back, leaving behind angry, red lines. “I’m getting close,” you manage to gasp out, your words intermingled with moans and gasps. “Just don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

Pope’s mind almost goes blank at your words. He doesn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to. The feel of your nails in his skin and the sounds of your gasping moans only serve to push him towards the edge. He tightens his grip on your hips, fingers digging in even harder as he thrusts even deeper into you, prolonging the pleasure for both of you. “I won’t,” he promises huskily, his voice low and rough with desire. “I won’t stop until we both get come”.

The waves of pleasure crash over you both, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your bodies. Pope pulls you tight against him, his arms wrapping around you like a security blanket as he tries to catch his breath. Your body thrums with satisfaction, and you bury your face into his neck, simply content to be held by him.“Holy hell,” he gasps out, his voice rough and breathless. “That… you…”

You giggle weakly and nod in agreement, not quite trusting your voice. You press a soft kiss to his neck, feeling utterly spent and completely satisfied. It feels like your body has been through a wringer, but it was the best kind of wringer possible. “That was…” you start, but even your brain is all fuzzy still. “Amazing,” you manage to utter.

Pope lets out a weak chuckle at the sound of your ragged voice, the exhaustion in it only serving to make his body warmer in a strange way. He rubs your back gently, caressing you with a tenderness that contrasts to the passion of moments before. “Amazing doesn’t even begin to describe it,” he responds, his voice still rough, but softer than before. “That was… I don’t even know how to speak right now, honestly.”

"Did I manage to make you forget about Kiara?" You whisper as he kisses your neck. He looks up without moving away from your neck. "Kiara who?" He murmurs, nibbling on your neck

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starfilmz · 4 months ago

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one more famous!rafe cameron x childhood friend!reader who isn’t a celebrity before i go to sleep :) 01 02 03

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rafesangelita · 2 months ago

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♡ when pope doesn’t want to hit you during sex..

warnings: oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, slight dirty talk, angst, finger sucking, mentions of past sexual encounters, reassurance and comfort, brief description of reader being treated poorly, overstimulation, soft sex, praise, reader cries, pope is so gentle and sweet ૮ . . ྀིა⁩

a/n: highly recommend reading bitchy!pogue!reader’s lore if you haven’t already so you could get a better understanding of her <3 this was slightly inspired by the ending of ‘anora’

wc: 1.3k

“pope, pope, pope—” you sounded like a broken record, the man’s name falling off of your lips like a mantra. working his tongue in skillful cirlces around your clit, you shuddered as his grip around your thighs tightened, arching your back off of his sheets with a cry. you didn’t think he had it in him. pope had effortlessly made you scream and cry in overstimulation for the past twenty minutes, your brain fuzzy and vision hazy as he pushed you over the edge time and time again.

“how are you so good at that?” you couldn’t help but ask as pope licked the remnants of you off of his lips, your eyes running down his shirtless form. “well i took a lot of anatomy classes for science and stuff, you know? bodily functions are kinda my thing. jj also might’ve given me some pointers..” you laughed, your chest rising and falling as you basked in your post-orgasm bliss. pope looked up at you sheepishly, sorta in disbelief that he had you of all people here in his room.

deciding to put his shirt back on, pope froze once you pulled at his arm. “what are you doing?” your brows knitted together in confusion when you saw him looking around like you two were finished. “i uhm— i didn’t want to assume that you wanted to have like full on sex, so i was just gonna let you get dressed whenever you felt ready.” you laid there dumbfounded. no guy has ever been this considerate. “are you kidding? i’m not leaving you high and dry..”

pope swallowed thickly when your hand trailed down his frontside, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you palmed him through his shorts. “did jj give also give you pointers on how to fuck?” pope shook his head, allowing you to pull him down between your legs. he was rock hard in his boxers and he was still making it all about you. “you got this hard just by tasting me?” your voice was sugary sweet and pope swore he could blow his load right then and there when he felt your fingers working him out of the restraints of his underwear.

“yes,” he nodded, deciding to help you out when one of the charms from your nails got caught in his zipper, “you tasted so good, and you’re also just really, really pretty.” he stammered, the nervous look on his face making you giggle. ‘pretty’ the word was so wholesome, you hadn’t been called that in ages. you were so used to the terms ‘hot’, ‘sexy’, even ‘sinful’, but pretty? you couldn’t decide if you liked the way your heart fluttered in your chest when you heard it.

you shook off the weird feeling that came over you, instead distracting yourself by taking pope’s hand and wrapping your lips around his thumb. “oh, wow! that’s—” pope had never seen such an erotic sight before in his life. not even in the weird porn jj would flash him out of no where. pope could sense a slight energy shift, but ultimately decided that he was just mentally psyching himself out cause he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

once he was prodding at your entrance, you and pope shared a knowing look before he pushed into you, a muffled moan tumbling from your mouth as he groaned, screwing his eyes shut at the sheer feeling of you being wrapped around him. you felt better than what he could’ve ever imagined. warm, wet, and gripping him like a fucking vice. he cursed to himself, hoping, pleading, that he wouldn’t finish quick and make a fool out of himself.

you were already a mess when his head was between your thighs, but feeling him inside you was a totally different thing. he knew exactly how to angle his hips so he could hit that spot that made you see stars behind closed eyes. he was slow and calculated, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. the realization had you feeling exposed and slightly embarrassed.

why wasn’t he being rough?

why wasn’t he being selfish?

why wasn’t he using you purely for his own pleasure?

pope leaned down and started leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck, taking his hand and intertwining his fingers with your own. “you feel amazing,” he praised, “just perfect.” you blinked, your breath quickening as his lips found their way to yours. your brain wanted you to push him away and tell him that kissing on the lips was too intimate, but your heart had you giving in and kissing him back.

it wasn’t until you and pope were lost in each other’s orbit and his nose was nudging yours ever so gently that you panicked and turned your head away from him. you were losing control, and you needed to get behind the steering wheel fast. ripping your hand from his, you grabbed his shoulders and flipped you two over so you were on top. pope looked surprised, the sudden change in position throwing him for a loop. you reached back, lining him up with your entrance before sinking back down onto his length.

pope let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his hands flying out to rest in the curve where your thighs and your hips met. you started up a steady pace, the man underneath you shamelessly grunting and moaning as you rode him with ease. you refused to look at him or meet his eyes, partly because you were terrified of seeing what you couldn’t handle right now; and that was the gaze of a man who wasn’t viewing you as some kind of sex object, but as an actual living being with emotions and thoughts and aspirations of your own.

pope knew what you did for work but it didn’t bother him. he was concerned about your safety more than anything. your fears came true when pope ran his fingers across your flesh, the look on his face saying it all. he wasn’t just admiring your body, he was cherishing it. every curve, every detail, he was engraving every single thing into his brain in hopes that he wouldn’t have to rely on his memory of you to be the only time he’ll ever see you like this.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you needed to prove that pope was exactly like everyone else. “hit me,” you moaned, grabbing his hand and placing it on your cheek, “please, i want you to do it.” pope felt his heart drop to his stomach, his face twisting in confusion. “hit you? why would i do that?” he stopped you, sitting up against the headboard while you avoided his heated stare. “why wouldn’t you?” you scoffed, “it’s like every guy’s wet dream.”

“it’s not mine.”

that’s exactly what you were afraid to hear. of course pope wasn’t some sick individual who got off on hitting girls and inflicting pain on them— words included. “please, just do it. choke me, pull my hair, anything— i want it.” with his palm still on your cheek, he cradled your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “no, you don’t.” he whispered, stroking your skin with the utmost care.

him being gentle hurt you more than any man who threw you around with no regard ever did. you didn’t know no other way, you didn’t know what it was like to be put first. nor did you know how to outwardly express your appreciation or vulnerability without having to give something away. you stared at him, your resolve crumbling as you cried into his chest, his arms enveloping you immediately. you cried until you couldn’t anymore, all while pope was still nestled inside of you.

he didn’t say a word as he held you tightly, your tears dripping down onto his skin as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. pope already knew what was wrong, his ability to read you and see right through you was uncanny. “no one can hurt you anymore,” he stated, “not in here. not when you’re with me.”

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