#rafe drabble

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ confronting stepbro!rafe after the lewd images he sent you

warnings — 18+. MDNI. stepbro!rafe x stepsis!reader, implied smut & sexual relations, stepcest.

sending stepbro!rafe lewd images at the dinner table | part one - you are currently on part two.

cherie's note — listening to fantasize by ariana grande while writing this ... yum. wasn't planning on making a part two, but i had to give u guys something. <3

rafe wasn't expecting an answer. not one like that. not from you.

his stepsister, of all people.

he shouldn't have sent that video in the first place — he knew better, but the second he got yours?

game over.

you thought the regret would fade. that the embarrassment, the shame, the tight knot in your stomach, would loosen after a day or two. but it didn't. every time your phone buzzed, your chest tightened, half expecting rafe's name to pop up.

except, it never did.

he hadn't said a word about it. no sarcastic remarks, no lingering looks. just... nothing. like it had never happened. the silence gnawed at you, twisting and turning, refusing to settle.

the silence was the worst part of it all.

and yet, when you passed him in the long hallways of tannyhill, it was there. the air thick with something unspoken, wrapped in tension and hunger. his gaze lingered a second too long, his lips almost curling into a smirk each time he watched the way your cheeks flushed when your gaze met blue. but then it was gone, like it had never been there at all.

now, the house was quiet. your parents were gone for the night, wheezie sleeping over at one of her friends for the weekend, leaving you and rafe alone. it shouldn't have mattered, but the awareness of it clung to your skin, unable to be washed off even if you scrubbed. you tried to distract yourself — music, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, even half-heartedly attempting to read — but none of it worked.

barefoot, you padded down the hallway, every step echoing in your chest. your stomach tightened when you reached his door, knuckles wrapping softly against the lacquered wood.

"come in."

the man's voice echoes against the wooden oak door. his tone is smug, that much is sure, even through the door — as if he had anticipated from the start, that you'd come crawling. 

you stepped inside his bedroom, hesitating for just a second. rafe was sitting on his bed, his eyes glinting in that way that made it impossible to tell what he was thinking. his posture was relaxed, though his heart was pounding pathetically out of his chest, anticipation rising as he watched you enter — watching you like he was trying to figure out what you were about to do.

"i need to talk to you," you said, your voice cracking. it was rougher than you had intended, betraying just how unsettled you felt, standing before him, knowing he knew more about you than a brother should.

his lips curled into a half-smirk, but it didn't reach his eyes. he leaned back, crossing his arm behind his head. the holes of his t-shirt ride up at the movements, barely able to contain the muscles of his arms. the sight alone had your mouth watering, but you swallowed hard — you had come in here for one thing, and one thing, only.

you were angry — angry at him for making you feel so exposed, and angry at yourself for giving him power over you.

"what about? that little picture you sent me?" the words dripped with something dangerous, something almost mocking, but there was also that same intensity in the air between you.

"what do you want from me, rafe?" your voice was steadier now, but it still cracked with that undercurrent of emotion you were trying to suppress.

his smirk deepened, but this time there was something else behind it — something more real, more raw. "what do you think i want?" he asked, voice almost a whisper now. he wasn't looking at you like some sort of joke anymore. his eyes were searching, like he was waiting for you to admit something you both knew, but neither of you wanted to say aloud.

you shook your head, frustrated. "i don't know, rafe. i don't know what you're playing at. you send me something like that, and then you—"

"i didn't make you respond," he interrupted, sitting up straighter now, gaze unwavering. "you did that. you sent it back. so don't blame me for what you're feeling now."

the edge in his voice had sent shivers down your spine. he was right, and that made it so much worse. he knew exactly what buttons to push — exactly how to make you react, and yet, part of you hated how much you liked it. how it seemed to spike your heart rate every time he spoke.

the air between you felt like it was thickening with every passing second, like the room was closing in on you. rafe didn't step back; instead, his gaze remained locked on yours, that stupid familiar smirk playing at the corners of his lips. the edge was gone, replaced by something far more serious — almost predatory.

"you came to my room for a reason," he said quietly, his voice hanging heavy with intent. there was no mistaking it now. he wasn't talking about a conversation, he wasn't asking for answers anymore.

your mouth felt dry. each nervous gulp you took felt stuck in your throat, heart pounding against the cage of your chest. your body felt like it was betraying you, betraying how hard you'd tried to avoid this. you hadn't meant to come in here for this — it was supposed to be an innocent conversation about what you had so stupidly done on a whim, but it was quickly taking another approach. you hadn't meant to let it get this far. and yet, every part within was telling you that you wanted it. that you wanted him.

"i—i didn't come in here for that," you said, but even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. because your body was already leaning toward him, closing the space between you without a second thought.

that was the worst part.

no matter how much you convinced yourself — or tried convincing him, you couldn't stop the way your body begged for it.

the moment was in fast motion, rafe refusing to give you another chance to think. one second, you were pressed against the door, and the next, he had you caged against it, his knee sliding between your thighs, pressing up just enough to make your breath hitch. his hands weren't tentative anymore — there was no hesitation, no uncertainty. he had never been so sure of anything in his life.

his mouth ghosted over your collarbone, just as his fingers curled possessively against your skin. he had waited months for this moment — ever since the first time he had laid eyes on you. his breath is hot on your skin, hands roaming eagerly against the foreign curves of your figure.

"think our parents would still call us family after this?"

your stomach clenched at his words.

he had said it like a taunt, like he wanted to make this worse — like he wanted you to realize just how fucked up this was. but the way his hands pull you closer, fingertips burning hot against the sensitive skin of your waist, told you he didn't care. he wasn't stopping, and neither were you.

"then stop," you whispered back, challenging. the look in your eyes, staring up at him through your lashes, any ounce of hesitation left in his already hot body, vanished.

his grip on you tightened. his lips dragged along your jaw, his teeth grazing your skin, and when he pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils were blown wide.

"you first."

his lips against yours is rough, filled with months of pent-up tension, and pure want. he kissed you hard, like he was staking his claim.

like he was making sure there was no going back.

tag list — @flvredcas, @my-name-is-baby, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @virgoanliterarian.

[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.

[simpforboys]

frat!perv!manipulative!rafe who’s obsessed with topper’s dumb gf…

(warnings: shameless groping, dry humping, reader is innocent and ditsy, cheating (?))

series masterlist

Sweet Jesus, no way you were actually that dumb?

When Rafe walked into the dorm he shared with Topper at the Sigma Alpha Phi fraternity house, he wasn’t too shocked to see you. After all, you were with his best friend.

“Hiya, Rafey.” You sweetly called out to him, lying on your stomach and mindlessly kicking your feet behind you while you scrolled on Instagram.

“Mhm, hey, pretty girl. Whaddya doin’ here alone? Top ditch you?” Rafe questioned, throwing his backpack down on his side of the room.

“He’s in the bathroom.” You murmur, eyes still glued to your phone as a funny meme came up, and you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

Rafe hummed in response, a small smirk curling onto his lips as he took in your outfit. A mini denim skirt, babydoll shirt, and… white lace panties.

Rafe knew you weren’t the smartest or most aware girl in the world, but your sweet and bubbly personality made up for the lack of it. And he can’t say he minded, really. Not when he always got to see peeks up those little skirts you wore or your bra every now and then.

“Sweetness, y’know your panties are hangin’ out, yeah?” Rafe scoffed, walking the five feet over to your boyfriend’s bed.

His large hands moved to grip your soft cheeks, pulling them apart to see the white piece of fabric barely covering your cunt.

You peered over your shoulder, seeing Rafe squeezing and touching your butt. It wasn’t anything new, Rafe always touched you like that when Topper was gone. But you were okay with it, because he always assured you that he was just looking out for you as his best friend’s girlfriend.

“‘m sorry, Rae. Didn’t realize.” You mumbled, before turning back to scroll on your phone, genuinely believing Rafe was fixing your skirt for you.

He climbs up onto the lifted bed, knees on either sides of your hips. “This skirt s’so damn frustratin’… doesn’t wanna come down this pretty ass.”

“Fix it, Rae.” You huffed, adding another post to your close friends story.

Rafe rolled his eyes. Damn brat. But his cock was painfully hard against his shorts, and he knew Topper took forever in the bathroom. “Yeah, baby, ‘m fixin’ it.”

So, his hands lifted your hips a bit, presenting more of your (barely) clothed cunt and ass to him. He pressed his erection against it, grinding slowly at first.

You just kept scrolling, unaware Rafe was dry humping you shamelessly on your boyfriend’s bed — because he was fixing your skirt.

He had to bite down on his lip to keep a moan from leaving the back of his throat. Your pussy was so fucking warm against his bulge, the lace revealing most of it.

And every day Rafe hates himself for not getting with you before Topper did. But, some sick part of him also liked the thrill of doing this on his best friend’s bed, with your ditsy brain.

The adrenaline coursing through him was enough to make him throw his head back a little, sculpted hips moving a bit quicker as he let out a strangled whimper.

His bulge directly hit your clothed clit, making you gasp out. “R-Rafey, are you fixin’ it?”

“Yeah, sweetness. Jus’ hold still f’me…”

He grunted, hands digging into your hips. The sound of your gasp and the delicious — yet not enough, friction felt made his hips stutter, eyes squeeze shut, a small moan leaving him as he cums in his shorts.

He pants a little before he snaps out of it, and reluctantly pulls your skirt down to cover most of your ass. The tall boy then climbs off the bed, looking down at you, still giggling at some meme.

And then Topper finally came in, bidding his friend a “hey”, unaware that his roommate just dry humped his girlfriend.

[khioneee]

trying to break up with your fuck buddy, rafe

rafe paces. back and forth. hand running through his hair, jaw tight, eyes sharp with something between frustration and disbelief.

‘you want to stop?’ his voice is even, but there’s an edge to it.

you nod, arms crossed over your chest. ‘yeah.’

‘why?’ his head tilts, eyes scanning your face like he’s searching for an answer that actually makes sense to him.

‘i don’t like what this is turning me into,’ you say, voice steady. ‘it’s not who i am. and i don’t want it to be.’

he exhales sharply, turning on his heel and pacing again. ‘where is this coming from?’

‘i’m not blaming you for anything, rafe.’ you sigh, feeling the weight of this conversation sink into your bones. ‘i just realized i don’t want to be another girl in your rotation.’

he stops mid-step, turning to face you. ‘rotation?’

you hold his gaze. ‘you know what i mean.’

his jaw tenses. ‘you knew what this was,’ he says, voice low, careful.

‘i did,’ you agree. ‘and now i know i don’t want it.’

he drags a hand down his face, shaking his head. ‘i thought everything was fine.’

‘it was,’ you admit. ‘but i’m a ‘girlfriend’ kind of girl, rafe. i have boyfriends, not fuck buddies.’

rafe lets out a dry laugh, almost disbelieving. he starts pacing again, steps restless, like he needs to move or he’ll explode.

then, from outside, a familiar voice cuts through the tension.

‘rafe! come on, man, we’re waiting!’ topper, followed by laughter and girls’ voices, high and sweet.

your stomach turns, but you don’t react. instead, you nod toward the door.

‘you should go,’ you say softly.

a pause, a sharp inhale. his jaw clenches. ‘we’re not done.’

‘i said what i needed to say.’ you swallow the lump in your throat. ‘you have girls waiting for you.’

he stops pacing. his expression hardens. ‘you think that’s what this is about?’

‘i think it doesn’t matter,’ you answer. ‘because you’re not my boyfriend, and you don’t owe me anything.’

his hands curl into fists at his sides. ‘you’re doing that thing again.’

‘what thing?’

‘acting like you don’t care.’

you inhale sharply. ‘i do care, rafe. that’s the problem.’

something flickers in his expression. for the first time, he looks uncertain. like this wasn’t supposed to happen. like he never considered the possibility of you walking away.

he starts pacing again, steps quicker now, frustration rolling off him in waves. ‘so what? you’re just done?’

you nod. ‘yeah.’

he stops. looks at you. then, after a beat, he says, ‘fine.’

you hesitate. ‘fine, what?’

‘i’ll be your boyfriend.’

you blink, caught off guard. ‘what?’

‘you want a relationship?’ he shrugs, like it’s the easiest fix in the world. ‘done.’

‘that’s not how this works.’

‘why not?’ his voice is sharper now, defensive. ‘you said you don’t want to be just another girl— fine. be my girlfriend.’

you shake your head, a humorless laugh escaping. ‘jesus, rafe.’

‘what?’

‘you don’t even want to be my boyfriend. you just don’t want to see me with someone else.’

his jaw tightens, and for the first time, he stops pacing. stands still.

‘you can’t just decide to be in a relationship because you don’t like the idea of losing me,’ you say, voice softer now. ‘that’s not love, rafe. that’s possession.’

his lips part slightly, but no words come out.

‘you don’t know how to do this,’ you continue gently. ‘how to be with someone in a way that isn’t just about control.’

he exhales, slow and deep, fingers rubbing at his jaw as he looks away for a moment. when he meets your gaze again, there’s something different there. hesitation, sure. but also something you weren’t expecting.

fear.

‘i don’t want to lose you,’ he admits, voice quiet now.

your breath catches. ‘then be better.’

rafe swallows. ‘tell me how.’

‘you already know how,’ you whisper. ‘you just have to choose it.’

the silence stretches between you again, but this time, it’s different.

it’s not heavy. it’s hopeful.

then, from outside, topper calls out again. ‘rafe! you coming or what?’

rafe doesn’t even look toward the door.

‘nah,’ he calls back, eyes still locked on yours. ‘i’m good.’

your heart was about to try to break out from behind your ribs.

his gaze softens. ‘stay?’

you hesitate. ‘rafe—’

he shakes his head, stepping closer. ‘if i say i can do this, then i can do this.’

you search his face for the lie, the excuse, the escape route he’s bound to take. but there isn’t one.

he raised your hands to his mouth and kissed the tip of each of your fingers in turn. your thumb, your index finger, your middle finger, your ring finger, finally your pinky, and then, your gaze caught the black cross that rested on the centre of his chest.

you wonder if his heart beats steadily.

his lips twitch, just slightly, into the kind of smirk that used to make you roll your eyes. ‘i’ll be the last boyfriend you’ll have,’ he murmurs. ‘you’ll see.’

your chest tightens, but this time, it’s not with dread.

‘okay,’ you whisper.

he grins, triumphant. ‘yeah?’

you exhale, a small smile creeping onto your lips despite yourself.

‘yeah.’

an. inspired by rory and logan.

[poguehearted77]

Winter's Chance

Summary: It's Rafe's turn to have your son for the weekend, but it seems the weather wants you to spend the holidays together.

--Finally some Baby Daddy Rafe

With delicate rubs to your son's tummy, you desperately tried to get him to calm down with soft pleads and overeager soothing. He'd been fussing all day, so much that you'd called the doctor to make sure everything was okay.

They simply reassured you that it may just be a prolonged stage of fussiness. Most babies grow out of it around 4 months which is exactly where Max had just reached a few weeks ago.

Just when he was finally beginning to calm for a moment your ears are filled with the chime of your doorbell. Max picks up his crying as if he had never stopped. Your eyes roll, already knowing who is on the other side of the door.

You gently scooped him up to rest over your shoulder on top of the little binkie you tend to have thrown over your shoulder at all times for moments like this. He was cute, but the spit-up was never pretty and you were always prepared.

Opening the door from a distance you weren't expecting to see Rafe step in partially covered in snow. It distracted you momentarily before Max's cries cut through the shock.

"I know, I know." You whine, gently rocking him, backing away from the cold air that swept against your feet. "Hurry up, and close the door." His eyes roll, "Hello to you too." He closes the door and stomps off the snow from his boots before stepping out of them and hanging up his jacket.

"Woah, woah, what are you doing? This is just a pick-up, then you can have fun trying to calm him down at your place." Rafe stands still, his thumb gesturing to the door behind him, "You haven't seen the news, have you? They're closing the roads, so we're snowed in. The only reason I made it here is because of the suspension on my truck."

Your face turns sour and Max continues to cry.

"So why did you come in the first place if you knew you wouldn't be able to make it back?" He ignores your question for the most part, "Relax, baby. As excited as you are to see me, I didn't come for you. I came for my son. There he is," Rafe's expression lights up as he reaches for Max and takes him out of your hold.

"Rafe you can't just take him and expect him to calm-"

For the first time in seven hours, silence consumes the room. No more screams and tearful cries. "You've got to be fucking with me," You don't say it loudly, but Rafe still hears.

"Guess he was just missin' his daddy, huh? Isn't that right, Max?" Rafe's tone is playful as he pokes at Max's tummy which elicits tiny giggles and the brightest smile you'd seen all day.

You walk away, headed towards the kitchen. Not sure why you were moving so fast, Rafe was hot on your heels. "It's not your fault, it's probably just been a long day-" He finally shuts the fuck up with his smug remarks when he hears a soft cry, "Y/n," Your name rolls off his tongue, tender and sweet. "Baby, what's wrong?" Effortlessly, he supports Max with one hand while he reaches to turn you so you're facing him.

Your eyes are filled with tears, lips quivering ever so slightly and he knows what's coming. He's seen you like this more times than he can count. He takes you under his arm, your cheek pressed to his chest and you break down, muttering into the fabric of his hoodie.

He comforts you with a big hand rubbing your back, soothing you the way he learned from those parenting books that he swear he never read. "It's so hard, Rafe." Is all you manage to say through broken cries for the first five minutes before you're pushing off him, expression more angry than upset? "He was crying all day, and the second you walk in, he's perfectly fine."

Rafe's lips frown, puzzled. "And that's a bad thing?--"

"Yes! Why do you get to be Superman?!" Earlier, the sound of a pin drop would disturb Max from calming, but now even your exclamations left him unfazed, as long as he was in Rafe's arms he was unbothered.

As a matter of fact, with a second glance, you notice he'd actually fallen asleep. Just Perfect. Another win for Superman.

He chuckles, leading you both to have a seat on the couch. Your son sleeping soundly in his father's hold. "Well, I think I've got the abs for it." His shit-eating grin spreads across his lips.

"You try carrying a baby in your stomach for nine months, and you tell me if you still have abs after." Subtly, his tongue wets his lips at the memory, "All I remember is how good you looked pregnant. Shit, wanna do it again?" You'd never wanted to hurt someone so badly.

"You're lucky you're holding my son." He scoffs, leaning in slightly as if to speak away from the baby. "I seem to remember the two of us going half on the conception, and a few times after that." You air-swat him and stand, making your way for the stairs. "I'm going to take a nap."

The hours flew by as you finally had your first uninterrupted nap in what felt like years. By the time you woke up, the sun was long gone, and there was a thick layer of fresh snow sitting on your window pane. You headed downstairs and stopped at the bottom of the steps to appreciate the view.

Nothing melted you quite like the sight of Rafe taking care of Max. You hated to admit it, but he was a good dad. A really good one. Hot, too. Rafe held the bottle to Max's lips, murmuring some undistinguishable babbles with a soft smile. Surely speaking a language only the two of them can understand.

"I hope you warmed the bottle before you gave it to him." You say, and he finally notices you standing by the stairs, stalking your way over and sitting beside him.He ignores you, knowing that you're just trying to get under his skin. "You look well rested." He remarks and you sigh with a soft nod. "Yeah, I am actually." He grins to himself, "Must be a miracle to sleep well on that cheap-ass mattress you got up there."

"Sorry, we can't all have premium mattresses." Rafe pulls the bottle back once he realizes Max has had his fill. "Y'know my money is your money right? I give you ten thousand a month but everything I have is yours, too." Standing him up on his lap first, Rafe holds the baby over his shoulder, gently patting his back.

"Well, I don't need to live in a fifteen thousand sq ft house to be happy unlike you." He shakes his head slowly, his gaze falls on you, somber. "I seem happy to you? I don't give a shit how big my place is. It's always going to be empty without you two in it... " He trails off, alluding there's more to come.

"Rafe.. What are you saying?"

"Move in with me, again." Your head shakes before you sputter profuse denials, "No, Rafe, we can't we tried that before remember? We don't get along. Technically, we're not even together." The conversation is briefly interrupted by a small gurgled burp on Max's behalf.

Rafe leans down to place a drowsy Max in his rocker in front of the couch before sitting back up. "Things were different then, we were eighteen. I can't do the back-and-forth anymore. Don't you wanna wake up in the morning, see that Max is taken care of and I'm making you breakfast, then we go back to bed and I take care of you? Huh?" He hums, his voice igniting sparks along the length of your neck as he nosed along it.

"Rafe.." your voice is shaky, feeling the heat from the discussion.

"Whadd'ya say, hm?" You reflect, having Rafe stay with you today, in just a few short hours you'd been able to take a break, he held you when you cried like he always did. You'd hardly even fought. Though that was no surprise, the two of you fought considerably less ever since Max came into the picture.

"Okay, yes." You can feel the lines from his smile stretch against your jaw just before he begins to pepper kisses on your cheek. "Y'know, we made the world's cutest baby ever right?" You smile, both your gazes focused on the little one before you.

"He's got your eyes, for sure." Rafe states and you giggle, "You're just saying that because they're brown." He sits up straight, heartfully disagreeing. "I'm not. They're the same eyes that I fell in love with when I first laid my eyes on you, and the same ones that humbled me when they looked up at me for the first time in the NICU."

His words were touching. You're seeing a whole new side of him. Not the usually hot-headed and impulsive man you were used to. This one was sweeter, softer, and more sincere.

You reeled him in for the first kiss, his lips soft as they pressed against yours, his hands confidently holding you at your waist. "Ah, I see you're taking me up on my previous offer. Let's go for a girl this time, yeah?" He grins, and you pinch him.

[robinsgrl]

toxic baby daddy rafe does something to me. no soft rafe (only with his girls and only sometimes). he’s abrasive and harsh. even more when someone messes with you. yooo where my panties at

mdni 18+

It’s been three months. Three months without Rafe as your boyfriend. Three months of his only title in your life being your baby daddy. There were days where you would refuse to even call him that.

In high school, you loved the sound of his voice. You loved how the palm of his hand felt at the small of your back. You loved that being around him brought you a sense of peace.

Now, all you two do is argue. About everything and anything. Even if you do start half of them. Not now, though.

“What I do in my spare time is none of your business!” Luckily, Samara’s in the living room, her noise cancelling headphones on as she watches some YouTube show, giggling when something funny comes up. You’d usually try and pay attention to her screen time but you can’t when Rafe is in your home and bitching at you.

“So you’re whoring it up when Samara’s with me?” His words are harsh, spitting them at you.

Your eyes are wide and bewildered as you look up at him, chest rising and falling from the intense match you’re having. “Listen to yourself! Whoring it up? Are you from the fifties? Women can have sex without being called a whore nowadays!”

“So you are fucking someone? Who is he.” It’s not a question. It’s a goddamn demand and you hate the way it makes your knees feel weak.

You scoff loudly, rolling your eyes. “I’m not fucking anyone.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, ___, Topper fucking saw you.”

“Topper’s your dick rider.” You spit back out. It comes without warning. His big hand falls on your neck, tightening around you. Your back pushes up against the wall, eyes wide and up on his as he stares down at you angrily.

His face nears yours, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. A shudder runs through your body and you want to shut your legs to help ease the sensation between them but he forces his knee to you. “I’ll kill any man who gets near you, do you fucking hear me?” His words are low and menacing. From anyone else, it’d be scary. It’d drive you away and straight to goddamn police station. But from him? You can’t deny how good it feels.

Rafe’s always been protective of you. Since you two met, he’s hovered around you like a scary dog, growling at anyone who came your way. It grew when you got knocked up in your senior year of high school. And it grew tenfold when your baby girl was born. But it got to be suffocating. You broke it off with him and it took him two weeks to realize you were being serious.

You would never admit that you made a mistake. Not ever. Admitting that you miss him only lets him win. It gives him a point. And yes, you should be mature enough to realize this isn’t a game but he’s so damn cocky about it. The last thing you need from Rafe is a bigger ego.

“Who is he?”

“Eric. Eric Jones.” You admit easily, breath shaky and full of a need for him.

“Did he fuck you?”

You can’t answer. He repeats himself.

“Did he fuck you?”

You nod, hands falling to his arm as his hand tightens on your neck. His eyes won’t leave your face, taking you in completely. You can see it all. The anger. The jealousy. The twinge of hurt. He pulls his hand from your neck and pulls away from you. “Call your mother. Tell her to pick Samara up.”

“What?”

“Just fucking do it.” And you do. Like always, you do as told and Samara’s off with her grandma for the night.

“He can’t fuck you like I can.” You’re a drooling mess as he pounds into you from behind, the sound of skin on skin meeting fills the room. His hand is in your hair, forcing your head back. “Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

The moans and whimpers coming from you won’t stop. You try to form words as he keeps shattering your world but it won’t come out. “Fucking slut. Answer me.” His hands trail down to your neck, pushing you up slightly to sit as he keeps fucking into you. Your back arches up against him, toes curling as you feel the building ache in the bottom of your belly.

He groans loudly as he feels your walls clench down on him as you curse out loud, grinding down on him to reach that peak you want so badly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight. He couldn’t even fuck you right, could he? My poor girl, getting fucked by amateurs.” His fingers trail down to your freed tits, pinching at your pebbled nipples. “I don’t care what break you think we’re on, when you need a good fucking, come to me. No one can ever make you this cock drunk.”

You’re nodding frantically, “yes, yes, fuck, Rafe! Rafe! Oh, fuck!” You come undone when his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing at your sensitive and pulsing bundle of nerves.

At this very moment, you’re grateful for the house that Rafe bought you instead of cooping up in the one bedroom apartment you wanted when you moved out of his place. You had hated the power he had for giving you such a nice place but you’re grateful now as you moan and yell his name, body convulsing as his fingers keep working against you.

“Raaaafe, fuck!” He’s pushing deep and deeper as he pushes your front side back onto the bed. The overstimulation is making you writhe beneath him, pretty whimpers leaving your swollen and reddened lips. You can tell he’s reaching his own end when his thrusts become harder and longer, momentum slowing.

One pump. Two pumps. Three. Four. And he’s groaning in your ear, his front pressed up against your back as he comes inside of you from behind, your cunt fluttering around him at the full feeling of his load.

—

You awaken hours later to the bed dipping beside you. You had fallen asleep in Rafe’s arms after he had cleaned you up and whispered soothing and sweet nothings into your ear.

“Rafe?” You sit up tiredly, rubbing at your eyes to wipe the sleep away. His back is turned to you, the most relaxed you’d seen him in a while.

You scooch closer to him, pinched eyes trying to take a look at him. A small gasp leaves you as you see his bloodied and scarred hands. “Go back to sleep, baby.” His polo is covered in dribbles of blood, some drops of it drying up on his face.

You want to ask questions. You want to clean him up. But you can’t. You’re not a very good liar and the last time the police came around asking for your help, you almost broke, but Rafe was always thinking of you, his lawyer cleaning up the mess you made with the police. He had kissed and soothed you down from your teary apologies that night for being weak.

You nod, yawning softly, “okay… just… put the shirt in the wash.” It’s his turn to nod, a soft smile on his face as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

[stvolanis]

brothers best friend! Rafe who stroked his cock to the thought of the way you looked in your little bikini when he was at your house for your brother, spurting heavy ropes of cum when he remembered the way your boobs almost kept slipping out of your flimsy top, and the blush that coated your cheeks when you adjusted it—wondering if anyone saw, but of course, rafe did.

brothers best friend! Rafe who was supposed to be staying the night for your older brother, but somehow ended up finding himself in front of your cracked door, watching the way you rode your stuffed animal. He couldn’t seem to control himself as his hand slid into his boxers, whining, wishing it was him. His hand was pressed to his mouth as you played with your sensitive buds, afraid he’d moan too at the sight in front of him.

brothers best friend! Rafe who made sure to sit next to you at the dinner table. Laughing at your brothers sports jokes as he trailed a hand up your thigh. Your breath hitched as you felt him rub you through your panties, and suddenly you were happy you wore a skirt. Rafes cock was unbelievably hard, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck you silly as he watched you lick some sauce off that had accidentally gotten on your finger.

brothers best friend! Rafe who tightly held his hand over your mouth after you’d gotten a little too loud from the way he pounded into your pussy mercilessly. His cock stretched you open, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout your girly room. Tears brimmed your eyes, but all you could do was clutch the sheets beneath you as his tip hit your cervix repeatedly.

brothers best friend! Rafe who had made you cum at least 3 times on his cock, the wetness on your bedsheets below you proof of his work. You were so fucked out, unable to form a coherent sentence—only able to moan Rafes name repeatedly. “Good girl, princess. Know it’s a lot, but you can give me another one, yeah?” He whispered softly in your ear as he lazily fucked into you still. Your pussy was beyond sensitive, and your nearly screamed as his hand came down to play with your clit—but you didn’t want to disappoint him. “Y-Yes, oh my god, Rafe!” You whimpered out. Rafe hummed in approval as your legs shook from overstimulation, but he didn’t let up. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He muttered.

TAG LIST: @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @luxuriouslokistan-3 @jazminsjaz @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @floredaqueen @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy @vogueprincess @scintilla-morningstar @liv-n @armandosbabymama @axailslink @cosmixstar

[fear-is-truth]

˖˚⊹ 𝓙’s note: rafe cameron x pogue!reader who hates his guts but can’t stay away from that d warnings: smuttyyy

the sound of the ocean drifts through the open window, moonlight spilling across your bedroom floor in uneven streaks. kneeling on the mattress, you dig your fingers into the soft, linen sheets, knuckles paling. eyes fixed on the vanity across from the bed, its polished surface cluttered with perfumes and a half-open jewelry box.

you despise him. you hate his fucking guts.

yet, you can’t bring yourself to stay away from him.

“it’s not gonna fit, you pig,” you snarl through gritted teeth, pushing back against him. this earns a rough smack across your asscheek, the painful sting making you flinch. you shoot him a venomous glare over your shoulder.

“no… i think it’ll work,” rafe cameron drawls from behind you, voice dripping with that goddamn condescension that never fails to make your blood boil.

“of course you’d say that, you think everything works in your favour.” you feel the mattress shift again. this time, it’s the unmistakable feeling of his cock sliding between your legs, the ominous hardness, and how you can feel every ridge and vein rubbing against the plush of your thighs.

“yeah well, only ‘cause it does, pogue.”

the last part leaves his lips with such venom, it might as well been a slur. when his engorged tip breached your weeping hole, you tighten your jaw in an attempt to bite back any sound that’ll give him the slightest ounce of satisfaction. as embarrassingly turned on, unbelievably soaked you are, the burning stretch still feels overwhelming. inch by agonising inch, his cock bullies its way past your tight walls—each time when it felt as though it wasn’t biologically possible for you to accommodate any more, that you couldn’t take another fraction, your walls give way, expanding stubbornly.

“tight fit, huh.” rafe observes, rough hands gripping onto your hips, “but don’t worry, we’re gonna make it work.”

“if you think for a second that– mghha— fuck you!”

without warning, he plows right into you with one powerful thrust of his hips. bottoming out, he lets out a deep groan at how hot and tight your cunt felt; squeezing around him as if it were carved to fit the exact shape of his cock.

“tight fit. but i told you, we’d make it work,” he crows in savage triumph, fingers pressing on the faint bulge on your lower abdomen.

“s-shut up,” you hiss, trying to ignore the tingling sensation crawling up from the base of your spine, or the telltale twitch inside you. your palms are flat against the mattress as his hands snakes around your front to grope the soft curves of your breasts. rafe pulls back with a lewd squelch, and relief washes over you as your walls recoiled into its original state…but alas, it doesn’t last long. he snaps his hips forward again, impaling you to accommodate his massive girth.

“you’re so f-full of yourself,” you turn your head just enough to catch his smirk, that cocky grin that makes you want to slap the living shit out of him. bracing yourself, you bite your lip, refusing to let any sort of whimper slip out when he sat back onto his heels, the new angle allowing his cockhead to prod at your g-spot.

“you’re so f-full of yourself,” rafe mimics in an obnoxious singsong, hot tongue tracing along the cartilage of your ear. he punctures the sentence with a sharp thrust that caused your vision to go white momentarily when his tip threatened to push past your cervix. curling his hand around your throat, he thrusts once, twice, before sinking his teeth into your shoulder at the third time as your cunt flutters weakly around him.

“big words from someone who’s stuffed full of my cock,”

[ds-angel1]

dealer!rafe x brainwashed!reader

cw: mention of SMUT(18+), drugs and pills, rafe lowkey runs her life (and i need that(so so bad))

a/n: drabble that i literally got from a dream (if anyone has done something like this before and i´ve just forgotten, credits to them(can never trust my dreams))

Dealer!Rafe didn’t mean to keep you. Not at first at least.

The first time he saw you, it was supposed to be nothing. Another night, another party, another girl too pretty for her good. Your denim shorts rode too high on your thighs, a spaghetti strap slipping from your shoulder like an invitation, and you looked at him like you knew exactly what you were doing. Like you had the slightest clue.

You didn’t.

He figured you’d be an easy score, a quick sell, a quicker fuck, someone to forget by morning. But then you pushed through the crowd, all honeyed laughter and half-lidded eyes, and asked him what he had. Not shy, not hesitant, but like you belonged in this world like you’d done this before.

Like you already belonged to him.

He should’ve known then. Should’ve clocked the way his pulse jumped when your fingers brushed his palm, the way his breath caught when you bit your lip, pupils already blown wide. But it wasn’t until you tossed back the pills without a second thought, no caution, no questions, that he realized what you were. Perfect.

It was a game. A pretty girl with a reckless streak, someone eager and pliant beneath him, high off whatever he fed you. But then he started learning things. About the mess you called home, the way you barely scraped by. How you were always searching, always aching for something just out of reach.

That’s when the idea took root.

Rafe could take care of you. Fix you. Own you.

So he reeled you in, slow and deliberate. He made sure you only bought from him, made sure the come-downs hit just hard enough that you came back, eyes wide and desperate. And when you started spending more time in his bed than your own, when your things started showing up at his place, one shirt, then a toothbrush, then a drawer full of clothes, you never even realized it was happening.

Until it was too late.

Until you needed him.

The day you moved in, there was no discussion, no formal agreement. Just a slow suffocation disguised as safety. He watched as you set your bags down, as your fate sealed itself with the quiet click of the door shutting behind you.

That’s when the rules became clear.

"Act up, and you get nothing," he told you, voice smooth, patient. Like he was doing you a favor. "No, ‘m serious, baby. You wanna misbehave? Then no blow. No pills. Nothin’."

And it worked.

Because when you were good, when you melted for him, hazy and pliant, when your lips parted on soft, gasping pleas when you stared up at him so far gone you barely remembered your name. Letting him do whatever his sick mind desired.

He controlled everything about you. Well he called it “takin’ care of my sweet girl.” He chose what you ate, what you wore, where you went. His own little doll.

He’d won. You were his and followed his every order, and he fucking loved it. He could turn you into a pliant free use puddle with only a few pills and puffs of whatever shit he was smoking, letting him fuck you so hard you were either almost sober or almost seizing.

Sure, your quality of life had declined rapidly since you’d met your so called “savour”, but you had structure and you had “love”. A sick, twisted, manipulative version of it, but when you were high off your mind and half naked in his bed you were able to convince yourself it was love.

[zyafics]

can you write about rafe x sarahs bestfriend and reader keeps trying to get with rafe and he rejects her until he finally agrees and teases her around Sarah making reader nervous .. if you find a story like this LMK

truly didn't expect to write today, but ended up doing... this. hope you like it!

SOMEONE NEW | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb)

Pairing — Rafe x Sarah's BSF!Female Reader

Content — best friend's brother, fluff, she falls first/he falls harder

Word Count — 1.1K

Song — Someone New by Hozier

“What gives?”

Rafe surprises you. Sitting on a barstool at the Tannyhill estate, you assumed when Rafe returned home, he would ignore you the way he had done all his life. For the past couple of years, you’ve harbored an embarrassing crush on him that amounted to nothing. Sure, you never outright confessed, but you assumed he knew.

He had to.

The way you always strike up a flimsy conversation during late nights in the kitchen from your sleepovers with Sarah. The way you would always try to convince Sarah to join him and his friends at parties—only to be rejected of an invitation. The way you would always search for him to fill your cup, or take you home, whenever you and the Camerons end up at the same function.

You never told him but the signs were there.

Yet, nothing happened.

After spending a summer in the Bahamas, you decided it was time to put yourself first. You changed the way you dressed, the way you style your hair, the way you put on your makeup. It wasn’t for him, it wasn’t to impress him—it was for you. A new version deserved a new update, a new way to love, and you’re pulling out all the stops.

Now, back in Kildare, you’ve resumed your presence at the Tannyhill estate. Sarah invited you over for a sleepover, but she’s currently out getting some of the snacks. Leaving you to your own device, in her house, with the return of her brother.

Whom you didn’t even realize came home.

It fucks with him.

Because he’s used to you, his little sister’s best friend, always gawking at him from across the room. Always fetching him a beer from the fridge, or blushing whenever he comes into your proximity. Neither of that has happened since your return and Rafe can’t lie and say the loss of attention hasn’t bruised his ego.

But it’s something else. Something magnetizing about the air around you. He doesn’t know if it’s the change in styles or the sudden wave of confidence you’re exuding, but it’s different, and it’s intriguing him like never before.

“What?” You ask, lips parting and releasing the chewed-up plastic straw you were sipping on. His gaze drops to the fullness of your wetted lips, the new shade of lipgloss making them appear more delicious than ever before. His heart slightly patters—what the fuck? He thinks to himself. What is going on with me?

“What’s going on with you?” He asks, and your brows pull together. They’re shaped, manicured, threaded, the way he likes his women. But what remains is that subtle dip between your brows, that boasts the look of innocence from your features, reminding him of the same naivety and shy-natured he always adored.

“What do you mean?” You say with a quiet laugh.

“You’re different,” he observes, his eyes tracing the openness of your clothes. You’re wearing a stylistic top, one revealing your navel, and a piercing on your belly button. When the fuck did you get that?

You tilt your head to the side, your doe-shaped eyes blinking at him with pure curiosity. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Sort of, yeah,” he admits. You shrink under this proclamation, shoulders tightening, your legs crossing on the barstool, revealing the pretty anklet on your feet, dangling, in a way that makes him imagine what they would look like over his shoulders.

You frown, jutting out your bottom lip, and looking to the floor. “I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly.

“Not—” He pulls back, trying to find the right words. “Not in a bad way. You’re not… you.”

You blink up at him, “Like what?”

You don’t look for me anymore, he concludes, but he finds it pathetic to say. Instead, he settles with: “You’re just different.”

You scrunch your nose at his words, the way they wrinkle, it’s so adorable, he wants to cherish that sight. Rafe finds the courage to ask, “And you’re quiet. You always wanted to talk to me; did some other asshole catch your attention in the Bahamas?”

“Why do you assume they’re an asshole?”

“Most men are,”

“You included?” You ask, tilting your chin to look at him in a sort of challenge.

“Yeah,” he admits after a long silence. “I’m the worst kind.”

It makes you laugh again. In that same carefree, airy laugh that comes with ease. Something about that simple sound unwinds his shoulders, and Rafe takes in the moment as if he can stretch it on for an eternity. Fuck, he thought. What is it?

“What’s so funny?” Rafe asks, his throat suddenly dry. He needs a glass of water, but it’ll be hell before he tries to move from this spot.

“Nothing,” you say with a soft smile, “Just… Self-awareness is always a good first step.”

“So you think I’m an asshole?” He asks, stepping closer. His leg knocks at your feet, causing you to shift your position in a way that accommodates him. You still do that, Rafe recognizes, you’re still making room for him.

Good.

You bobble your head in contemplation, “I don’t think it’s a lie,”

“I can be better,” Rafe declares.

“Sure,” you drawl, unconvinced.

“I’ll be better for you,”

The words came tumbling out without a second thought, and all the presence of air is stolen from your lungs. Your eyes widen into this impossible size, filled with such valiant shock, that you’ve never demonstrated before. He almost wishes he can take back his confession.

But Sarah returns, coming into the room to break the tense air.

“Leave her alone, Rafe,” Sarah snaps, dropping two plastic bags of snacks onto the kitchen island. “Don’t you have some whore to entertain?”

Rafe drops his jaw playfully. “Don’t call your best friend that.”

”I—“ Sarah reddens from the accusation, sliding her gaze apologetically to you, but you laugh it off, gently pushing Rafe’s shoulder, and forcing a gap between you.

He hates it.

“I know,” you answer, smiling at your best friend and shaking your head softly. “He’s being an asshole."

You cut a look over to Rafe with a knowing smile like you’re sharing an inside joke, before returning your attention to your best friend. Rafe had half a mind to grab your chin and force your focus back on him—the other Cameron. “Do you need help carrying anything?”

“Nope,” Sarah shakes her head, grabbing the bags with one hand and using her other one to grab yours. “Let’s go.”

You beam, radiating the same contagious joy as before, but with a new set of layers that Rafe wants to strip down and uncover. Sarah pushes him to the side and moves to the stairs, and as you’re dragged up the steps, you do something you’ve never done before.

You don’t look back.

And in that moment, he realizes, fuck, he might’ve liked you more than he was willing to admit.

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

[rafey-baby]

rafe has always been close with his sister...(part two)

c/w: incest, some dubcon touching & a kiss from rafe, both of them are more or less drunk, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.3k

previous part & moodboard

if this is something u don’t like, scroll & read something else xx

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

It’s well past 3 am when they stumble through the front door— wobbly on their feet and drunkenly giggling about some stupid joke Rafe had muttered while fumbling with the keys. Yet another party her big brother had dragged her into, and if it weren’t for his hands on her hips guiding her upstairs right now, she’d wake up the entire house tumbling down the stairs when she’d inevitably loose her footing.  

“Rafe, m’never going out with you again. Told you I wanted to leave like two hours ago,” she complains the moment they make it to her bedroom; her feet aching and head spinning.   

“‘N she’s complainin’ again. I mean, my apologies for wantin’ to—to show m’little sister a good time,” he huffs, peeling off the shirt that’s beginning to stick to his skin. “Don’t even try t’act like you didn’t have fun.”  

“Well, yeaah, but now m’sooo tired and gross and I need to shower and…” she yawns around the rest of the words; hand on his bicep for balance while she kicks off her shoes. 

“Don’t— don’t need to worry ‘bout that, told you I’d help you out, yeah?” he slurs, already beginning to tug down the zipper of her dress.  

“Nooo…can’t shower yet. Need to take m’makeup off first,” she blabbers, brows pulling together as if he’s just committed some heinous crime, making him roll his eyes before he’s searching through her vanity for makeup remover.  

And despite her drowsy resistance about wanting to shower alone, Rafe manages to drag her into the bathroom (after wiping her face clean) anyway — the thermal water soaking through her fatigued limbs feeling entirely too good for her to push him away when he corners her behind the shower curtain, its printed seashells beginning to twirl against the cream-colored material when she stares at them for too long. 

And she’s almost starting to believe he’s truly doing all of this for altruistic purposes; thoroughly washing her hair for her and making sure to coat the strands with a generous amount of conditioner afterwards.

But when his soapy palms mindlessly glide along the wet skin on her tummy— inching closer and closer towards her tits, she realizes that she was wrong. However, she’s far too out of it to care, and upon noticing the fact, he’s letting his eager paws grope at the squishy flesh; covering them in the foamy shower gel in the process.  

Only when his thumb is smoothing over a sensitive nipple, does she blink away the haziness blurring the lines of what a brother should and shouldn’t do to his sister. And at first, her dozy complaint doesn’t even reach his ears because he’s entirely too focused on the way her tits fit perfectly in the palms of his hands, wondering how it would feel to—  

“Rafe…can you not do that?” she suddenly takes a tentative step back.  

“Hm? Jus’ makin’ sure you feel all nice ‘n clean,” he drawls out, seemingly confused before he’s tugging her closer with a hold on her waist. “Can you wash my hair next?” he pleads; an abrupt attempt to distract her intoxicated brain. 

“I can barely stand and you want me to wash your hair? Can’t even reach your head when you’re a fucking giant.”  

But when he leans down for her, she reluctantly begins to lather the shampoo into his roots— gaining a delighted grunt from the back of his throat when her fingers absentmindedly dig into his scalp. However, with the new position, he’s now eye-level with her tits; soap bubbles and water droplets trickling down the smooth skin, and with his thoughts muddled, he’s unable to resist the allure for very long before he’s gravitating towards them.  

“Rafe, stoop,” she stumbles backwards when she feels the flat of his tongue laving over the valley of her breasts.

“M’sorry.” But he doesn’t seem all that sorry, not when he looks up at her under his lashes, offering her an inebriated grin— something nauseating coiling in her belly in response.  

- - - - - - - - - -

When they finally make it out of the shower, he insists on patting her dry, the foggy mirror saving her the absolute mortification of having to watch her brother’s eyes skim across the expanse of her bare skin during the unnecessarily long process.  

“Let me take care of m’favorite sister, yeah?” he croons when he’s tugging down the hem of her sleep shirt afterwards — a shirt that just so happens to be stolen from him, the worn fabric apparently softer than anything of her own.  

She’s unsure as to why he’s suddenly being so nice, but she’s not exactly complaining when his uncharacteristically gentle fingertips daub her face with her night cream when they sit down on her bed— making sure to rub the moisturizer into her forehead as well. And she thinks he almost looks cute like this; brows furrowed in concentration, flicking her nose with a sleepy smile when he’s finished.   

“That smells so fuckin’ good,” he groans after applying a layer of chapstick to her lips; his heady gaze fixed on the action of her rubbing them together, something she’s too dozy to notice.

“I know, right? I looove anything vanilla-scented,” she gushes over the product while placing the rest of the skincare on her nightstand.  

“Can I— uh, try it?” his question sounds innocent enough, but she should know better.  

“Of course,” the naive girl fully expects him to uncap the lip balm once more but instead, he’s suddenly grabbing her jaw into his massive hands and pressing his mouth against hers— swallowing her surprised squeak before she’s quickly pulling away.   

“Rafe, you promised you weren’t gonna do that anymore,” she whines, but the way her button-eyes blink up at him — the betrayal so tangible — lures him in to do it again; smearing their mouths together with a satisfied hum before she’s shoving at his shoulder.  

“Ray, m’serious, it was one time,” she lets out an annoyed huff.  

“Calm down, m’lips were jus’ dry, alright?”  

“You could’ve just— nevermind, m’too tired for this right now,” her attempts at putting some much needed space between them prove to be futile when he just follows her under the covers— acting as if he doesn’t hear her muttering how he should sleep in his own bed for a change.  

“Listen, m’sorry, okay? Don’t like when you’re mad at me,” he ignores her protests and nestles his face into her neck, nose soon nudging her throat and eliciting a somnolent giggle from her. 

“Ray, stop. You’re being annoying,” she tries to swat his hands away when his fingers suddenly begin to poke and prod at her sides because he knows how ticklish she is.  

“Yeah? Tell me you forgive me then.” 

Involuntary laughter bubbles from her chest when she shakes her head and squirms in his arms— desperately trying to wriggle away, but he’s much stronger and she’s no match. And when she grows even louder, he’s forced to slap his palm over her mouth to muffle the noise.

“Shut up, Sarah’s gonna wake up ‘n tell dad we were out late again,” he hisses, suddenly remembering how his other sister is sleeping on the other side of the wall, nonetheless continuing his attack when she attempts to escape once more.

“Stop tickling me then,” she manages out between fits of laughter, uncomfortably writhing in his hold because she hates when he does this. However, she quickly realizes he’s not planning on stopping anytime soon, and the feeling is quickly turning into something unbearable, more or less forcing her to finally let out a sigh in defeat. “Okay, okay, I forgive you— whatever, jus’ let me sleep.” 

His breathy chuckle fans the expanse of her neck before he finally relents, but when she tries to shift away from him, he merely tucks her closer against his naked chest; large palm slipping under the hem of her shirt to splay over the expanse of her stomach to keep her right where she is.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs into her hair, tone suddenly desperate, needy. It makes her swallow around the knotted coil in her throat before she reluctantly gives up altogether— entirely too exhausted to put up a fight when sleep is already dragging her into its dreamy embrace and she feels so warm like this.

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ a little dry humping never ruined a friendship.

warnings — 18+ MDNI. bsf!rafe x bsf!reader. dry humping, dirty talk & praise.

cherie's note — based off of this tweet!

your hips rolled against his like this was normal — like you weren't even thinking, and this was all just instinct. thighs straddling his lap, his large hands guiding your movements in rhythm with his. rafe's mouth was on you like he was starving — like he had anticipated this moment for years.

his back was slouched against his headboard, head tipped just enough for you to take what you wanted: sloppy kisses, open mouths, gasping against each other when the heat surged too fast. your lips slid against his like you owned them, tongue teasing until he groaned into you, that deep, guttural sound that vibrated straight to your core.

you could feel him under you — hot and hard through the thin material of his boxers, one of the only two things acting as a barrier in this moment— flimsy fabric, and a label you were dangerously close to ignoring.

best friends. nothing more.

"jesus," he muttered, breath ragged, hands gripping your waist with determination, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt like he needed to feel every inch of your skin. "you feel so good on me, baby."

a broken, throaty whine tore from your lips, raw and unrestrained, your chest rising and falling in frantic, shallow breaths. your eyes fluttered shut as your hips moved on their own, chasing friction like it was the only thing keeping you alive. every slow grind dragged your soaked panties across the thick, throbbing bulge straining against his boxers — each pass nudging your swollen clit with aimed precision. the wet heat between your thighs was unbearable, your need slick and shameless, seeping through the fabric that felt far too thin to separate you from what you really wanted.

"you're soaking through your panties... fuck, baby. you feel that?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes — his pupils blown wide, mouth swollen from kissing.

his words hung in the air, and for a second, the tension was almost suffocating. you could feel the heat creeping on your face, a mix of embarrassment and guilt. you swallowed hard, biting your lip to keep from responding too quickly, but your body couldn't lie.

"shut up," you whispered, your voice low, almost pleading. you didn't know if you were telling him to stop, or trying to distract yourself from the growing feeling in your stomach. but your hips still moved, still rocked, against the pressure of him beneath you, betraying every word you tried to say.

rafe smirked, but his eyes were still locked on you, unreadable — dangerous. "i'm hardly doing anything, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice rough, a little shaky. his hands glide against the skin of your waist, goosebumps rising in their path. "you're the one who can't stay still."

the taste of copper in your mouth was undeniable — teeth biting down on your bottom lip, hands gripping his shoulders in attempt of stability, trying to keep steady — trying desperately to keep yourself together. "you're one to talk — whose idea was it for me to sit in your lap, ray?"

rafe's gaze faltered down to where you were both pressed together, lips parting like he was going to say something, but he didn't. instead, he gripped your hips again, guiding your movements, slow and deliberate, just enough to make your breath hitch in your throat.

the pressure was building, slow and unbearable, like the air itself was too thick to breathe — suffocating. each grind of your hips against his sent a shock to your shaking body, tightening everything within you.

rafe's breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling under you, his blue eyes half-lidded watching you with a hunger you couldn't ignore. "fuck, you're close, huh?” he muttered, his voice thick with need, the words pulling something deep from within you.

"come on," rafe coaxed, his voice rough, low. "let go, baby. let me watch you come undone."

each roll of your hips made the pressure at your core spike higher, sharper. you were so close — until, finally, something snapped. the words sent a wave of heat crashing over you, the combination of his touch and his filthy praise pushing you to the edge. you gasped, nails digging into his chest, hips rutting harder against rafe, desperate for that release.

he lets out a sharp, unmistakable whimper, hot spurts of his own cum coating the soaked fabric of your lace panties, sticky strings of his release mixing with the wet mess between your folds.

for a moment, the air is thick with something undeniable — hot, heavy panting, chests heaving against one another as you both blink in astonishment, then break into soft, methodical laughter at the predicament you’ve found yourselves in.

"we're supposed to be—"

"friends?" he laughs, catching his breath, gaze flickering down towards where your messy cunt presses persistently against his crotch, "yeah, keep sitting on me like that and say it again."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

normal procedure

words: 2.1k

warnings: 18+ only!!, dubcon, gynecologist!rafe, patient!reader, virgin!reader, gyno exam, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex

a/n: we can pretend that this is a roleplay scenario because obviously no real doctor would do this, lets all take a breath and remember this is fanFICTION aka not real or an endorsement by me (or my readers) of anything in this story

“oh, um-” you gulp, blinking as the fluorescent lights shine down on you.

“your feet ma’am.” he repeats, tapping the stirrups. you lift your legs, well aware that you're lacking any sort of underwear underneath your hospital gown.

your doctor secures your legs in the straps before his eyes drift to your center, now on display with your parted thighs.

you gasp and pull your gown down to somewhat cover yourself.

“ma’am, i assure you this is all part of the normal exam.”

“i-i-” you swallow thickly, blinking again, swearing the lights are only getting brighter, hotter, as a bead of sweat forms and falls on your forehead. “what's your name?”

“im doctor rafe cameron. certified gynecologist. you can just call me rafe though.” he explains softly. “and there is no need to be nervous.”

“okay… how long have you been a gynecologist?”

“asking all these questions is just going to delay what we need to get done.” rafe says. “shall we begin?”

“i suppose.” you nod. you know usually girls wait until after they have sex for the first time to visit, but with your twenty first birthday coming up as still a virgin, you decided you might as well stop delaying the inevitable.

“im just going to lift your gown.” rafes hands are slow and gentle as he brings the hem up, revealing your bare cunt to him.

“does it all… look okay?” you question. 

“you look perfect.” rafe says, his voice lowering in tone as he reaches for his gloves, pulling the latex over his long, slender fingers.

“okay.” you nod. surely a doctor would know. it lessens your anxiety the tiniest bit.

“im going to touch you now, okay?” rafe looks up at you, and his eye contact holds you still, blue eyes gleaming with intensity as they look into your brown ones.

“y/f/n?” 

“oh, yes.” you nod quickly. “yes, that's fine.”

rafe hums, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. “so if i read your chart correctly, you haven't had sex yet?”

“no, s-sir.” you shake your head, eyes moving to the ceiling to avoid that captivating gaze, even if the fluorescents make your eyes hurt.

rafe mutters something under his breath, but you're sure your ears are just playing tricks on you. no way he would whisper “perfect” to himself. surely he's a professional.

rafe lays two fingers on your inner thigh and your entire body jolts, the gloves cold against your bare skin.

“it's okay.” rafes other hand rests on your thigh, rubbing gently with his thumb. “im going to begin the exam, if you feel any discomfort at any point just tell me.”

“okay.” you nod, and you swear despite the chilly gloves, his touch leaves a trail of fire as he brings his two fingers closer to your pussy, before suddenly swiping through your folds.

“oh!” you squeal out, hips lifting slightly before pushing back down.

“it's a normal bodily reaction.” rafe assures you before you can even feel embarrassment.

rafes fingers swipe through again, but at least you're expecting it this time. you blink quickly, trying to keep yourself calm as his other hand moves to join in examining your cunt.

“just going to use my thumbs to look around. let me know if it gets to be too much.”

just as rafe said, his thumbs begin to pull and poke at your skin. you move your gaze from the ceiling back down to rafe, seeing the same intensity in his eyes but now focused on your pussy.

“im going to touch you some place that may make you feel… fervent. please know that any reaction your body may have is normal and all part of the exam.” rafe places his thumb directly over your bud, and your body lights up like a firework.

you don't even realize you're moaning until the side of rafes mouth quirks up again into that signature smirk.

“oh!” you squeal again. “oh my god, im so sorry.”

“it's all normal.” rafe assures you. he gives you a moment to get used to the pressure on your clit, simply touching it with the pad of his thumb before he begins to swipe over it, stimulating your clit while his eyes move back and forth between your pussy and your face contorted in pleasure.

“is this supposed to feel so good?” you question. you didn't do much research on what actually happens when you get in the gynecologists chair, but you swear what you've heard from friends is that the exam isn't comfortable.

“yes.” rafe says simply, and you have no reason to not take his word as truth. “my thumb is going to stay there as i insert a finger.”

you nod, glad to have the distraction of his thumb moving around your clit, even if your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you grow wetter.

“hm, looks like i won't need any external lubricant.” rafe looks up at you. “sometimes i have to with virgins. but your pussy is perfect.”

“thank you?” your thought process is quickly shut off as rafes finger prods at your entrance, getting his gloves significantly wet.

“sorry if this is cold, but i have a feeling you'll warm me up quickly.” rafe pushes his finger inside slowly, and you have to tilt your head back and squeeze your eyes closed to keep more sounds from coming out of your mouth.

“does it all feel normal?” you're well aware at your voice must sound strained as rafes finger rubs against your inner walls.

“yes.” rafe says, this time his voice having an air of shakiness to it. “you're tight, but it's to be expected from a virgin.”

“s-sorry about that.” you can't tell if rafes emphasis on the word is negative or positive. “i didn't see myself losing it anytime soon so i scheduled my appointment.”

“and why is that darling?” rafe questions, his voice a purr as he begins to move his finger in and out in slow strokes.

“why am i a virgin? uhh…” you trail off. “i guess just haven't found the right guy yet.”

in truth, the whole idea of sex gets you nervous. hopefully after getting assurances that everything works okay down there, it'll be one less thing to be anxious about.

“we can take care of that today if you'd like.”

the thumb stroking over your clit flicks upward suddenly, making your hips jump up, legs straining in their spread position.

“what do you mean?” you ask, feeling and hearing rafes finger speed up, your slickness making it easier and easier for him to move.

“i can take your virginity. it's part of my duties as your doctor. only if you'd like, it's an optional part of the exam.”

“you mean like… insert something in me?”

“yes, my cock.” rafe smirks as he pulls his finger out, tapping against your wetness and letting the sound spread through the exam room.

“oh!” you look at rafe to make sure he's serious, but his expression doesn't convey any sort of joking around. “gynecologists do that?”

“for our virgin patients if they'd like. id wear a condom of course and take your virginity so it's less of an ordeal for you. and i can assure everything is working fine.”

“and by everything you mean…”

“making you cum.” rafes thumb applies a bit more pressure to your clit. “although you're already not far off, are you?”

“wouldn't know.” you can feel something growing in the pit of your stomach, an unfamiliar feeling you can't quite place.

“what do you say y/f/n?”

“s-sure.” you nod. “if this is all normal, i guess it's fine.”

“great.” rafe smiles, before looking down at your cunt. “ill have to work two fingers into you before fu- helping you lose your virginity.” he explains.

thankfully, his thumb keeps tapping and pressing down on your sensitive bud as a second finger lathers itself in your wetness, sliding through your folds before dipping into your cunt.

his finger are barely an inch inside before they're back out. “you'll have to excuse me for going one handed for a second.”

rafes thumb moves away from your clit, and you're about to cry out for more, immediately missing the feeling, when rafes mouth drops and his tongue takes its place.

“doctor!” you shout.

“all normal.” rafe assures you, his lips already shining with your juices. “taste is an important part of the exam too. and you're very sweet.”

you watch as rafes head dips again, his mouth working on your cunt as his two fingers that you hadn't even realized have been pushed inside of you begin to move.

rafes free hand reaches for his pants, pushing them down to get his already hard cock out. he begins to stroke as his tongue licks at your clit, fingers opening you up.

you feel another jolt of pressure when his fingers spread to scissor and close, scissor and close, working your gummy walls open for him.

rafe presses a series of wet, sloppy kisses over your cunt before restraining himself and pulling back, licking greedily over his lips to not waste your taste.

“are you ready?” rafe asks, reaching into a drawer to get a condom.

“yes.” you nod quickly. you're more than desperate now for his cock, especially as his fingers slide out and leave you empty to squeeze around nothing.

rafe stands up, bringing his cock up into your sight line. your eyes widen when you see he's much longer and thicker than his two fingers that were already a tight fit inside you.

“don't worry.” rafe says as he tears the foil of the condom before getting the rubber out and rolling it down his length. “im gonna take good care of you.”

your hips already sit at perfect height as rafe steps between your legs. you would close them out of shyness if it was at all possible.

rafe taps his tip over your clit, making you moan out, but you don't bother to hold back, not when rafe lets out a moan as well.

“the room is completely noise proof, and sounds are nothing to be embarrassed by.” rafe assures you as he rubs his cock against your pussy, thoroughly wetting himself before pushing against your entrance.

it's a slow push to break the ring of muscle, and then an easy slide once he's in.

“h-holy shit.” you whine out, hands gripping the side of the bed as rafes hips immediately begin to swing in and out.

“any pain?”

“none.” you answer quickly. there's no hiding the intense pleasure being brought to your body, especially when rafes thumb retakes its place on your clit.

“there ya go.” rafe smiles as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock. “i can tell you're getting close.”

rafe glances at the clock, wishing he could fuck you for longer, but if he extends the time for the exam too long the nurses will surely get suspicious.

“how does it f-ffffffff-” your ability to speak briefly lapses when rafes thrust speed up. “feel for you?” you manage to complete your sentence.

“your pussy feels amazing. you're so tight and warm. any guy would be lucky to be inside of you.” rafe says, his hips moving faster, desperate to cum. “perfect.”

you are practically glowing underneath the praise and impending orgasm, rafes thumb moving faster with real purpose now.

your head tips back and before you know it, a wash of light and pleasure has taken over your body, and you're moaning and twitching as what you're certain is your high breaks.

“that's it.” rafe smiles, feeling your pussy flutter around him, clit pulsing with the strength of your orgasm as he thrusts harder into your pussy, putting all his might into helping you ride out your orgasm and spur on his own.

rafe lodges his cock as deep inside of you as he can as he cums, briefly cursing the barrier of the condom from preventing himself from flooding your womb.

“very- good.” rafe pants, pulling out extra slow despite the clock ticking down, watching as your hole squeezes back tight as he pulls out.

rafe discards the condom and then his soaked gloves, sticky with your wetness before tucking himself back into his pants.

“take all the time you need.” rafe undoes the stirrups and let's your legs flop down. “ill come check on you in five minutes, i need to see if my other patient is here.”

and just as quickly as he entered, rafe leaves the room, leaving you with your pussy a sloppy mess and heart beating fast.

[simpforboys]

more frat!perv!manipulator!rafe who is still obsessed w topper’s dumb gf

warnings: groping, manipulating, ditsy/dumb/innocent!reader, handjob, praise, cheating, kissing, brief thigh humping

thank you for 6,000 friends <33

series masterlist

It shouldn’t have surprised Rafe, really. Topper is your boyfriend, after all.

But when Rafe walked in on you sitting on Topper’s lap, giggling at some compilation of cats doing funny things, it irritated Rafe more than anything.

“Hi, Rafey.” You greet him warmly, your pretty eyes flicking up to see his cold blue ones.

“Hey, sweetness.” Rafe murmurs, although he doesn’t look at you like he typically does. He just hated being around you and Topper together, when you were so affectionate, knowing that you were with his best friend and not him.

“How was class, man?” Topper asks, his hand absentmindedly running up and down your crossed legs. You were only wearing some leggings and a crop top, a more casual afternoon.

“S’fine.” Rafe grunts, taking off his snapback and running a hand through his hair.

He moved over to his twin xl and hopped up on it, his back against the pillow as he propped himself up on an elbow and started scrolling on his phone, trying desperately to block out you sitting on Topper’s lap.

“You don’t wanna watch cat videos with us, Rae?” You ask, turning to look at the tall man who is lying with his thighs spread out a bit.

“‘m good,” he replies shortly.

You frown, but before you could even think about going back to watching the cute kitties, Topper was patting your thigh.

“I gotta go do somethin’, babe. I’ll be back in like twenty minutes.”

You hum, getting off your boyfriend’s lap as he stood up. You gave Topper a small peck, watching as he grabbed his wallet and keys, before uttering a “goodbye” to you and Rafe.

You turned, looking at Rafe. His eyes were already on you, a slight snarl on his lips.

“Are you okay, Rafey?” You ask, moving to the side of his lifted bed.

Rafe stares at you for a minute, not saying anything, the throbbing his cock is feeling against his jeans too distracting.

You poked his meaty thigh, feeling upset for your friend that he was feeling so down.

“Y’know what could make me feel better, sweet girl?” He hummed, a twisted idea forming in his mind as he turned his phone off and set it down on the bed.

“Hm?”

“A kiss.” He says bluntly, blue eyes fixated on the sight of your tummy poking out from the hem of the crop top and waistband of the leggings.

You just smile, leaning over to peck his cheek. You weren’t a stranger to giving Rafe kisses on the cheek or forehead, or him doing the same.

He grabbed your wrist before you could pull away, though. “Not there, baby.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

He had to internally roll his eyes. That stupid pout and look of confusion only made his cock harder.

Stupid girl.

“A real kiss, sweetness.”

You pondered it, lips still in a small pout. Your insides twisted, a weird feeling in your heart and tummy.

“I dunno, Rafe…”

“C’mon, pretty girl. S’jus’ me, yeah? Y’know only you can make me feel better.” He convinced, trying to resist the urge to just push his lips onto yours.

You went silent for a moment, just staring at him, looking unsure.

“We’re not doin’ anythin’ wrong, Y/n. You’re jus’ tryna cheer me up, ain’t that right?”

You let out a small huff, but nod. You did wanna cheer up Rafe, it killed you whenever he got so upset.

You leaned over the bed, his big hand moving to your thigh to help pull you up until you were almost hovering over the side of his body.

He kept his hand on your thigh, squeezing it a bit, feeling precum leak from his aching tip as he licked his own lips.

You both leaned in, him a bit too eagerly, you a bit too cautiously.

Your lips collided, and Rafe immediately took control and dominance. He hums into it, his left hand moving to the back of your neck, so you can’t pull away.

You had to put your hand on his thigh to keep yourself upright, which in response, he let out a small moan into the kiss.

His kisses were different than Topper’s. Topper was controlled, slow, sweet, gentle.

Rafe was desperate, dominant, rough, lustful.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, trying not to bust in his underwear when your tongue slid against his. He could still sense your hesitation, and it annoyed the hell out of him.

His right palm left your thigh, lifting your crop top up a bit as it shamelessly groped your tit through your bra. He felt you huff through your nose against his, and he couldn’t help but buck his hips up a bit.

“Mhm— you okay?”

You pull away, feeling him buck. You panted a bit, your lips swollen, as you looked down at his waistline.

“‘m jus’ feelin’ so needy, sweetness. Can ya help me?” He asks, giving you those puppy dog eyes.

The blue irises were just a weakness — no matter who had them.

“Um…” You hesitated, face warm. But then he took your palm and placed it on his clothed bulge, letting you feel how hard he is.

Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, Rafe was already unbuttoning the jeans, the words Lucky You embroidered. He pushed them down just enough, along with his navy blue boxer briefs, for his raging hard-on to stand out.

A small noise left you, one that caused more precum to leak from the dark pink mushroom tip.

“Ya trust me, yeah?” He hums, caressing your cheek.

You hesitantly nodded, eyes locked onto the big dick. Topper’s wasn’t this big… it was like the ones you see in porn.

He had to hide the devilish smirk on his lips as he spit on his own hand and guided it down to his throbbing shaft. “Gimme your hand, sweetness.”

Your hand shook as you held it out for him, a heat pooling in your tummy when your palm and fingers wrapped around him.

“Now move it up ‘n down… jus’ like that…”

He coos, throwing his head back a little as you began to hesitantly, and curiously, stroke his cock.

His big hand went back up to grope your tit, feeling the soft flesh as you continued to jerk him off, thinking you were just helping him.

You may be Topper’s girlfriend, but Rafe knew you were his dumb helper.

“S’good, pretty girl… makin’ Rafey feel good…”

He’s already trying desperately not to cum, but the way you were stuck staring at his erection, like it baffled your innocent brain was quickly sending him to the edge.

“I-is this right, Rafey?” You choke out.

“Mhmm… it feels right, ain’t it?” He groans, pulling you in for another sloppy kiss.

He starts to thrust up into your hand, soft moans and whimpers leaving him.

But what really sent him over the edge was when he saw you start to grind your clothed cunt on his thigh, completely oblivious to your own needs, distracted on helping him.

“F-fuck… keep goin’ baby, don’t stop—“

He grunts, panting as his warm seed spills all over your hand. Rafe’s head is still thrown back against his pillow, those pretty blue eyes half lidded as he stared at your face.

“You’re a good girl, baby… such a good girl f’me.”

He murmurs, pulling you forward to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

[kissyrafe]

christmas eve with rafe

cw: smut, fem!reader, rough sex, usage of the words "daddy", unprotected p in v sex (not proofread!!!)

notes: just spreading the holiday cheer! also first post so nervous

"can you please just tell me? pleeaseee..." you whined, shaking at the nicely wrapped presents underneath the tree, dying with anticipation. rafe let out a small chuckle "come on baby, it'll ruin the fun," his large hand pressed against your back, rubbing it in small circular motions. "jus' wait 'til the morning, then we can open our presents together." he spoke softly, enjoying the torture you were in.

"okay... but i better see uggs first thing in the morning." you let out a bratty sigh, placing the present back where it belonged.

you sat on the island's marble countertop in your cotton shorts, licking the cookie batter off of the holiday-themed spatula while rafe continued reading the next step on his phone. "okay so, i think we need to-" he rubbed his flour-covered fingers with his forehead before walking over to where you sat "y/n, stop eating the cookie dough." now standing right in front of you, he took the bowl, placing it down to your side. "no, you're not my father." you let out a small giggle before draping your arms over his shoulders as to not contaminate rafe's clothes with your hands that were covered in cookie dough ingredients. "oh? what about all those times in bed you called me, what was it, daddy?" his lips curled into a smug smirk, squinting his eyes at you teasingly. "shut up." you kissed rafe before he could say anything else, his hands landed on your hips, rubbing them tenderly. "y'know, you've been such a little brat today..." he murmured against your skin "from the presents 'til now," rafe's lips traveled down to your necks, nipping on your skin as he went, "i don't know what i should do with you."

you were currently bent over, your mouth hung agape, grunts and small moans flowing through with every thrust. your skin sunk into the cold marble, weak hands gripping the bowl and whisk as you stirred slowly with the help of rafe, too distracted by what was happening behind you. "c'mon baby, you got this." rafe whispered in your ear, his cock sinking into oh so slowly as he guided your hands. "p-please..." you managed to whimper out of your pathetic mouth, eyes shut. he was being so cruel.

"please what?" he teased you again, trying to draw an answer out of you, knowing damn well what you want. "please rafe, ah!⏤ daddy..." a particularly sharp thrust made your body jolt as you heard rafe give a dry chuckle. "go... faster," was all you could plead in this agonizing pleasure. he let out a small hum before biding to your demand, picking up his pace.

rafe was enjoying all of this. seeing you all needy and frustrated made him pity you in a sense, but he took amusement. after all, you deserve it. maybe it was the holiday feels or whatever, but you seemed to be so impatient today and wouldn't listen. rafe needed to teach you.

sounds of skin slapping and metal tapping mixed with each other as rafe fucked you at a relentless pace. by now, the cookies were forgotten as the only thing either of you cared about was how his cock slid against your tight and warm walls. your hands held onto the sides of the counter as you tried to steady yourself under your haze of pleasure. rafe fisted your hair, holding your head up as drool came from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to the counter. his other hand kneaded your plush vanilla-scented skin. "shit baby, pussy s' good," rafe's honey voice filled your ears, "uh⏤mmm..." was the only way you could respond as you couldn't even form words anymore. he tugged on your hair, pulling it to the side as he made you face him. "what's that? are you seriously fucked stupid by my dick?" rafe said in a smug tone, lovin' this all too much.

"come on pretty girl, use that sweet voice of yours and talk to me." he asked, his hand moving to hold your face, squeezing your cheeks in his calloused palm. "y-yes..." you softly moaned out, biting the inside of your mouth to hold back from making too much noise. "have you learned your lesson yet, huh?" rafe asked, feeling as though you were reaching your high from your moans alone. he just knew you and your body too well. you nodded frantically, begging for him to let you come. "please rafe... i'll be good⏤ promise!" your eyes opened a slight, looking at rafe's pleased expression. "c-cumming, rafe!" you shut your eyes again as your orgasm hit you, limbs weak. his dick guided you both through your euphoria, and rafe's high came soon after. "fuck, baby... you're so⏤" was followed by a stutter of thrusts and grunts from rafe, his hips snapping against your ass while spurts of hot cum filled you up.

you both are breathing heavily, and no words are exchanged after riding out your orgasms. rafe slowly pulled out of you, his cum leaking out with it. opening your eyes again, you see him with droplets of sweat hanging from his neck and forehead. turning around while maintaining eye contact, rafe plants a kiss on your plump lips.

"wanna get back to baking?"

[poguehearted77]

Tap Out

Just thinking about Rafe's super gorgeous, beautifully breathtaking girlfriend who is notorious for giving people a hard time. Especially him.

She got that million dollar Million dollar oow, oow And all I want to do is touch it Make her tapout, tapout, tapout, tapout,

Rafe stands tall and brooding in front of the bed where you sat while he hits replay on the overbearing series of voicemails you'd left him while he was out.

"Hi Rafe, I know you said you and Barry had to go take care of whatever it was that you said—I don't know; I wasn't really listening, but I just saw this new coach bag online, and I need you to send me a picture of your credit card front and back so I can get it. Thanks in advance baby."

You stay silent and unbothered by the replay.

He plays the next one, "It's almost midnight, Rafe. When are you coming home? I miss you. The bed is so big and empty without you in it. You remember that night we came back from the Blue Diamond charity gala and we barely made it up the stairs? The way you fucked me so good, left me aching for you for days--mmmm, wanna feel you like that again, come home Rafeyy."

Your boyfriend huffs as he moves to play the last one except this one is silent for the first few moments until some lewd sounds can be picked up. It's wet and sticky. It sounds like Thanksgiving mac and cheese being stirred in the pot. Soon, the faintest string of moans can be heard.

Most wouldn't be able to pick up on it, but not Rafe. His ears are trained to the sound of your voice. He's accustomed to every pitch, tone and frequency your pleasure can take on.

You stand, ready to plead your case, "You were gone for hours, what was I supposed to do?" Your arms cross defensively and they suddenly drop when Rafe's big hand is holding you by the throat, squeezing tight enough to have you gasping.

"You think this shit is funny?" His voice is strict, unwavering and serious. "What if Barry heard this? Huh?" Your eyes roll, defences refusing to crumble even with a limited supply of air, "It's Barry, he'd probably thank me-"

You need to learn when to shut up at the end of a rhetorical question because now Rafe had you bent up like a pretzel. One hand is still around your neck while the other holds you at the waist.

Your legs are shaking as he brings you to what you thought was your third orgasm but is actually the fourth (you'd blacked out during the second one). "Rafe- no- s'too much," You murmur, voice broken and weak from all your screams.

"Nothin's too much for you." He groans, punctuating his sentences with a sharp snap of his hips. It sends you reeling and your eyes roll back as you feel that familiar heat begin to unfurl in your core.

You shake your head repeatedly, "I can't--Rafe! Please." You beg, so incredibly turned on by the sight of your hot boyfriend who looked down to where your bodies connected. The way your slick covered his cock down to his balls. It pulls a groan out of him from his core.

You admired the sweat that gathered over the thin hairs on his chest and that piercing blue gaze that would glance up at you from time to time to taunt you like now. "You know what to do if you can't take it sweet thing." You do know what to do, but you refuse to back down, you're so close.

"O-oh shit I'm-" The words escape and your climax is stolen from you when Rafe stops completely and pulls out, his hands move down to your hips, shamelessly displaying his physical dominance over you and flipping you onto your stomach effortlessly.

He grips the flesh of your waist and manhandles you until you're being pulled back against him, the beautiful sight of your plump and juicy ass in his hands is enough to send him to the heavens above or maybe the firey pits below.

You're already too weak to hold yourself up on your arms, so you let yourself fall into the sheets. Your cries muffled into the pillows as Rafe slowly presses back into you, stretching you back open. His rhythm picks up with nothing but urgency and mercilessness.

Your back arches, and you cry out his name when you're blinded by your own orgasm. Coming undone once more and he comes soon after with a breathy chuckle. His hips are still rolling into yours lethargicly when he whispers, "You got one more in you, baby?"

"Fuck no. I'm done." You whine, your fists tapping out on the pillow and his pace slows until he finally stops, slowly pulling out.

"That'll teach you to fuck with my voicemails when I'm not here." He lays himself down beside you, carefully moving the stray strands of hair out of your face to admire you.

Your lips were swollen from all the sucking and biting he'd done to them earlier, your cheeks flushed and your body is spent. You grin, "You know you liked it, especially that last one." Rafe exhaled, even in your drained state you can still find time to be bratty.

"I did, I did. You sounded so fucking pretty playing with that perfect pussy of yours. Had to go rub one out in Barry's bathroom because of you." You smile a little bigger at that. "Good." Is all you say and Rafe can only roll his eyes as he moves to hold you in his arms.

You both lay there, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies until Rafe speaks up softly, "Tuesday." He says, and your head looks up at him with a confused tilt. Without having to ask him, he explains, "The purse you want. I ordered it. It'll be here on Tuesday."

Just when your smile couldn't get any bigger, it does, and Rafe can't help but to be in awe because god you're so fucking gorgeous but you're such a pain in the ass.

His prettiest headache.