#rafe one shot

[littlelamy]

lingerie with rafe

You took a breath, steadying your nerves as you walked into the bedroom in your new lingerie—a soft lace that hugged every curve just right. Rafe was sprawled on the bed, eyes on his phone, but the second he saw you, his gaze locked in, and a smirk slowly spread across his face.

“Well, damn…” He sat up, tossing his phone aside without even glancing at it. He didn’t even try to hide the hunger in his eyes as they roamed over you, taking in every inch of lace and skin. “What’s all this?”

You did a slow spin, giving him a better look. “Just thought I’d give you something to remember before you leave.”

Rafe’s gaze turned even darker, and he reached out, catching you by the waist and pulling you close. His hands pressed firmly against your hips, fingers tracing the lace before sliding upward to brush over your chest. “Oh, I’ll remember,” he murmured, lips grazing your collarbone, his thumb running over your nipple through the thin fabric. You let out a soft gasp at his touch, and he chuckled, low and warm. “I’ll have a lot to think about on that boat ride to Morocco. Starting with how good you look in this.”

You tilted your head up to him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as he grinned, hands moving back to grip your waist and pull you even closer. “Guess I wanted to give you something to keep in mind while you’re gone,” you murmured, letting your fingers trail down his arm as his grip tightened on your waist.

“More than you already do?” He laughed, but there was an edge to it, something possessive as he leaned in close, capturing your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss. The way he moved his lips against yours, unhurried yet intense, had your heart racing as his hands continued to explore. He kissed down your jaw, nipping at the skin playfully before letting out a low growl. “I don’t think you know what you do to me. And it’s all mine, right?”

His voice was low, rough, and his eyes met yours with an intensity that had you breathless. “Only yours,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “No one else even comes close.”

He grinned at that, that cocky confidence flaring up as he reached over to grab the Polaroid camera from the nightstand. His smirk grew wider as he turned it on, one hand slipping around your back to unhook your bra. “Want me to remember you? Better let me get a few shots. For safekeeping.”

Your cheeks burned, but you nodded, feeling his hands move carefully to slip the lace down from your shoulders, letting it fall away. He held up the camera, the click and flash filling the room as he captured you with that possessive, admiring look. You couldn’t hold back a soft moan as his hands returned, tracing over your now-bare skin, his fingers grazing your chest and running along your waist.

You pose with a finger tucked in your mouth with a seductive gaze while pushing your tits together. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with pride and something softer. “Gorgeous. Don’t think I’ll ever forget the way you look tonight.”

He took another photo, watching the image print and come into focus with a grin, before setting the camera down to draw you close, kissing you deeply. His lips were warm, urgent, and when his tongue brushed yours, you couldn’t hold back the soft gasp that slipped from you. His hands pressed along your back, exploring, caressing, as if he couldn’t get enough. He leaned back for a moment, eyes on yours with a mix of mischief and awe.

“Don’t go forgetting who you belong to,” he murmured, brushing a few slow, teasing kisses along your neck, his hands sliding lower to pull your hips against him. “Remember that while I’m gone.”

You let out a quiet moan, fingers tangling in his hair as you whispered, “I won’t forget. But maybe you should take a few more, just to be sure.”

His eyes flashed, and he laughed, reaching for the camera with a smirk. “Smart girl.” He took a few more shots, capturing every detail as he ran his hands along your skin, fingers pressing in, leaving warmth and promises in their wake. “I’ll keep these with me. Look at them every damn day if I have to.”

His fingers ran along your hips, then back up, pausing as he looked at you with something tender in his gaze. He set the camera aside again and cupped your face, pressing his lips to yours in another slow, deep kiss that seemed to seal the moment. You felt his warmth, his grip, and the quiet possessiveness in the way he held you, like he was claiming every inch of you, letting you know just how much you meant to him.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m never letting go, you know that?”

You managed a soft smile, tracing a finger along his jaw. “Good,” you murmured. “I’m counting on it.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills

[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.

[starkeysprincess]

⟢ FEELS TOO GOOD TO BE WRONG

presenting kinktober day 1 ➔︎ stepbro!rafe

warnings: stepcest, pillow humping, guided masturbation, fingering, pussy slapping, gagging, praising, & degrading. 18+ mdni word count: 1.5k

kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list

rafe tip-toed his way up the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone, especially his stepmother, knowing she’d nag at him if she smelled even the slightest ounce of alcohol off him. his feet carried him to his room, ignoring the soft light under your bedroom door, figuring you must’ve forgotten to turn off the fairy lights that littered the room. 

he froze at small whimpers coming from your room, turning around and stopping outside his bedroom. he pressed his ear to the door, chewing on the side of his nail, listening for further noises.

your whimpers progressed, and nothing prepared him for the sight he saw of you, his sweet stepsister, when he quietly twisted the doorknob, cracking your door open ever so slightly. 

the soft yellow lights glowed around your silhouette as if you were an angel, yet your actions were nowhere close to pure. there you were, in nothing but a pair of baby blue panties and a tank top, rutting against a pillow that sat between your thighs. your eyes remained closed, brows furrowing as you rocked back and forth, trying to find a steady rhythm in hopes the plush pillow would graze your clit. 

rafe’s cock stiffened in his khakis, and he grinned to himself, taking your distraction as an opportunity to slip into your room, ensuring to shut the door without making a sound. he leaned against the door, crossed his arms over his chest, and continued to watch you for a few minutes. 

“what do we have here?” rafe chuckled. your eyes immediately opened, and you let out a small shriek in surprise. "w-why are you here?” you stuttered, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“thought you were having a nightmare and was just being a good big stepbrother and checkin’ on you,” rafe licked his lips, eyeing you, “what are you doing up, anyway?”.

“nothing,” your gaze shifted away from him. “nothin', huh?” your stepbrother taunted, “s’not what it looked like to me.” 

“could’ve sworn you were going at it like a bunny and humping away at your pillow,” he tsked. your lip wobbled as tears welled in your eyes; you weren’t sure if it was because you were ashamed or because you were overly frustrated from how horny you were, “i’m sorry”. 

rafe pushed himself off the wall and stalked towards you. he gripped your chin and tilted your head to look up at you. "stop crying, alright? crying isn’t going to get you anywhere.” 

your gaze drifted away from his, and you looked down at your hands in your lap, ushering another apology. his thumb swiped at your plump bottom lip, a tent starting to form in his khakis as the blood rushed to his cock, “mm, sweet girl, always sayin’ sorry”. 

the mattress dipped under his weight as he sat down, his rough hands grabbing at your waist and hoisting you onto his lap. your back was flush against his chest, and he had one hand sprawled across your lower tummy, fingers tracing patterns on your flesh, “you know…what you were doing s’nothing to be ashamed of”. 

it took every fiber in your being not to let out a small whimper when his leg bounced up and down, the material of his khakis rubbing your clit, “it’s not?”. rafe shook his head, “course not. you were just trying to make yourself feel good like the needy little thing you are, right?”.

“i’m not needy,” you murmured, crossing your arms over your chest.

“yeah? if that were true, you wouldn’t be trying to get yourself off by your pillow, would you?” rafe chuckled, “there are other ways to make yourself feel good…like using your fingers”. 

you couldn’t help but frown, “that’s not true”.  

the blonde shook his head, “then you must not be doing it right… i could teach you. would you like that, sweet girl?”.

your eyes lit up, nodding slowly at his offer, and his hand slid down your tummy to your thighs, spreading them further open. his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging at it gently to pull it to the side, “pay attention to what i say, alright?”. 

once you give him confirmation, rafe grabs your hand, guiding it between your legs, “go on, stretch your little cunt with your fingers,” he rasps. you run your fingers through your slick folds, pushing two fingers into your wet cunt, “there you go,” he cooed, his hand pressing on your tummy, pulling you closer into him, “slowly move them in and out”. 

you listen to him, slowly pumping your fingers in and out of your slick pussy. your fingers move with ease as your arousal coats your fingers, and rafe groans, his hardon poking against your ass. his hand slid up your tummy to your tits, squeezing and massaging them. his thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple through your tank top, rolling it between his fingers, “c’mon princess, move them a little faster”. 

“atta girl, feels good, yeah?”.

“n-no, rafey, this feels wrong,” you shook your head, it was eating you alive. your mind racing with the thoughts of how wrong it is to let your step brother talk you through how to please yourself. 

“no? nothin’ is wrong if it makes you feel this good, but i guess i gotta do everything myself then, huh?” he scoffed. his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it away to replace your fingers with his. 

“oh–” you gasped, his fingers moving to rub up and down your slit, slipping one finger deep inside you. he pushed his thick digit in and out, slowly working your needy hole open before adding another finger. he was knuckle-deep in your cunt, his fingers dragging against your inner walls with each push and pull motion.

you couldn’t help the whine you let out, bucking your hips against his fingers, “see, nothing wrong if it makes you feel good, right?”.

a small squeak traveled up your throat when he landed a light smack to your clit, “answer me, say ‘yes rafey, it’s not wrong if it feels good’. c’mon, say it, or i’ll leave you to go back to humping your pillow, and we both know it doesn’t nearly feel as good as this”.

you couldn’t bring yourself to say it; the way his fingers curled made your brain blank. you pushed your body further back against him, whining when he suddenly stopped, “why’d you stop?”.

“told you i’d stop, guess you’re on your own,” he shrugged, his fingers still buried deep inside you. you rolled your hips, trying to give yourself some relief, only to receive another smack to your clit. 

“you know what i wanna hear,” he murmured, nipping your ear lobe, “admit that it feels good, tell me how good it feels to have my fingers stuffed inside you”.

despite knowing it was wrong, you couldn’t help but admit that it does feel good, his fingers were making you feel pleasure like you’ve never felt before. 

“good girl,” rafe praised, pistoning his fingers once again, “such a good girl for letting me play with this pretty little pussy”.

your head lolls back, resting on his broad shoulder, “rafe,” you whine. your moans increasingly getting louder the faster he pumped his fingers while he continued to toy with your nipples.

his free hand slid up your neck, prodding his fingers against your lips before shoving his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, “gonna wake everyone up if you can’t keep your mouth shut, and we can’t have that, can we?”.

you hum in response, gagging when he shoves his fingers further down your throat, muffling your sweet moans. the sound of your pussy squelching around his fingers was music to his ears, “you hear that? hear how fuckin’ wet you are?”. 

“touch yourself, play with your clit f’me,” he whispered, groaning when you obeyed, watching you rub sloppy circles onto your clit. he dipped his head down, nuzzling his face into your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, “yeah, just like that, princess. goddamn, you’re so wet, drippin’ all over my fingers”.

your breath hitches in your throat, drool coating rafe’s fingers as the tips of his fingers hit against your cervix, “look so fuckin’ pretty when your holes are stuffed full like the needy little slut you are,” he murmured, nipping at your neck. 

you push your head back onto his shoulder and look at him with half-lidded eyes. your chest is heaving as your breathing becomes sporadic, and you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. 

“that’s it, princess, cum all over my fingers. show me how much you love having me play with your pussy,” rafe whispers, grunting from the way your moans are muffled as you’re practically choking on his fingers. 

your eyes squeeze shut as you come undone, his fingers continuing to work you through your orgasm until your body slumps against him.

rafe removed his fingers from your mouth before pulling his hand away from your cunt. he brought his arousal-covered fingers to his mouth, humming as he sucked them clean, “taste so fuckin’ sweet”.

“see? felt better than your pillow, huh?” he teased, bucking his hips, his hard cock grinding against the plump flesh of your ass, “feel that? s’all ’cause of you, sweet girl”.

“think it’s your turn to help me out now”.

taglist: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @cameronsprincess @xxbimbobunnyxx @fae-of-prey @heartsforvin @zyafics @justafangirls-blog @sturnioloshacker @userchai @bunnyrafe @drewstarkeys-world @nemesyaaa @drewsarms @fallbhind @rafesthroatbaby @rafestaurusgf @hallecarey1 @fallrafwe @rafecameroninterlude @johnnycakess @sturnskiss @blckbrrybasket @shawtycoreee @rafeyscurtainbangs @wearemadeofstardust0 @juniebugg @honeybunniesoobin @spacexdrago @starkeysbebe @chimindity @spid6y @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandabbbbb @kisses4angel @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @starkeysheart @rafeinterlude @flvredcas @emilysuperswag @hyperfixationgirl @eternalbuckley @redhead1180 @ijustwanttoreadlols @slumnit @xoxohoneymoongirl @starkeyisthelastname

[greengoblinswifey]

Show me- Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

warnings: jealous!reader, 69, possessive rafe, unprotected sex, degrading kink, praise kink, rough sex, face slapping, choking, rafe is a sweetheart at the end, s4 ep 3 spoiler kinda.

A part of you was glad Rafe was wary of the cougar. The cougar— she wasn’t that important for you to memorize her name. She was getting too close to your “man” or whatever you and Rafe were. It didn’t matter, he was yours and you were wary of her the moment you met her couple nights ago.

“I don’t trust her,” you add.

“Oh yeah? I think you’re a little jealous,” Rafe saw right through you.

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, jealous.”

“No.” Your faces are inches away from each other and your eyes dart down to his lips.

“Cougar on the prowl?” he replied, playfully taunting you and you giggle. “I’m not an idiot, they think I’m an idiot but, they’ll see how Camerons do business.”

“Show me,” you reply. He felt your breath against his lips as your brown eyes stare into his.

“Show you what princess?”

“Show me how you do business.”

Rafe’s eyes darken as he grabs you by the waist, pulling you against him with a force that takes your breath away. His lips crash against yours, all hunger and heat, the taste of him overwhelming. His hand snakes up to your throat, wrapping firmly around it, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your pulse quicken, sending a jolt of excitement down your spine.

The kiss is wild, desperate, teeth clashing, tongues tangling as he dominates every inch of your mouth. You can’t help but grind your hips against his bulge, feeling the hardness pressing against you. A moan escapes your lips, and you push against him, needing more, needing him closer.

But Rafe pulls back slightly, his lips hovering just above yours as he growls, “Calm down, you needy little slut.”

His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make your breath hitch, and he smirks, his voice low and rough. “You jealous of some old bitch? You think I’d want anyone but you?” His eyes are burning with possessiveness now, and you can feel his cock twitch beneath your grinding. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, show you exactly who this cock belongs to.”

His words send a shiver through you, and you gasp as he pushes you back into the outdoor chair, the cool fabric brushing against your heated skin. “Spread your legs,” he commands, voice dripping with dominance. You obey instantly, feeling the anticipation coil tightly in your belly.

He kneels in front of you, hands pushing your thighs apart as his breath ghosts over your aching core. “You’re mine,” he growls before diving in, his tongue lapping at your folds, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. His grip on your hips is rough, holding you in place as you try to squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his mouth. He’s devouring you like a man starved, his tongue flicking, teasing, sucking until your mind is spinning.

“And I’m yours,” he adds.

You whimper, your hands fisting in the little hair he has, trying to pull him closer, needing more. He chuckles darkly against your skin, pulling back just enough to look up at you with a wicked grin. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet,” he says, his voice dripping with promise.

Rafe stands, grabbing your hand and yanking you up, pulling you into the house and straight to the bedroom. He throws you down onto the bed, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of lust and control. “Now, I’m gonna show you,” he murmurs, climbing onto the bed beside you, his body pressing against yours.

He pulls you into position, straddling his face while his cock hovers above your lips. “We’re gonna 69, baby,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “And I’m gonna remind you who you belong to.”

Without another word, his mouth is on you again, tongue plunging into your folds, while his thick cock presses against your lips, begging for your attention. You take him into your mouth, feeling him swell against your tongue as you moan around him, lost in the shared rhythm of pleasure, both of you pushing each other closer to the edge.

Rafe's deep moans vibrate against your core as you both lose yourselves in the intensity. His tongue is relentless, flicking against your clit with just the right amount of pressure, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. His thick cock is heavy in your mouth, and as you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, you hear his breath hitch, a throaty moan escaping his lips.

Between your legs, Rafe pulls back just slightly, voice husky as he asks, “You like how I do business, baby?”

Your eyes flutter as you hum around him, the vibrations of your answer sending shivers down his spine. “Yes, sir,” you manage to gasp between moans before he thrusts into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your mouth stretches wide to accommodate him as you struggle to take more, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the fullness.

Suddenly, Rafe’s mouth is back on your pussy, ravishing you with a ferocity that has you gasping. His tongue works its magic, swirling, sucking, licking until you’re a trembling mess above him. Without warning, the tension snaps, and you squirt all over his face, your body convulsing in overwhelming pleasure as his tongue laps it all up.

“Ride me, bitch,” he growls, voice thick with lust. “Show me that you know I’m yours and make me cum.”

You don’t hesitate. Climbing off him, you position yourself over his cock, feeling the slick heat of your arousal as you sink down onto him. The stretch is intense, and you cry out, your body trembling as you take him deeper, every inch filling you to the brim. Your pace is wild, desperate, and you scream out as his cock hits that perfect spot deep inside you.

Rafe’s hand wraps around your throat, his grip firm but teasing, cutting off your breath just enough to make your head spin. Your curly hair bounces with each thrust and he reaches up, tangling his fingers in your coils, tugging your head down to make you look at him. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and possessive, as he forces you to glance down at your own stomach, the bulge in your belly where his thick cock is buried deep inside you.

“Look at that,” he groans, voice thick with pride. “Look how deep I am in you.”

The sight is enough to send you over the edge again. Your body shudders, your legs quaking as you scream his name, cumming hard all over his cock. Your moans are broken, breathless, as you ride out the intense pleasure, gripping his arms for support as your body melts against him.

Rafe’s grip on your throat tightens just enough to remind you who’s in control, his own groans mixing with yours as he holds you there, feeling every wave of pleasure ripple through you.

Rafe's palm cracks against your cheek, the sting of the slap sending a jolt through your body. He doesn’t give you time to recover before he shoves you roughly onto your back, his hand immediately gripping your throat as he slams into you, the force of his thrusts making the bed creak beneath you. His eyes are dark, possessive, and he’s chasing his own release, fucking you so hard you can barely breathe.

“You’re my bitch,” he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. “My good girl, my baby, my princess.” Each word is punctuated by a rough thrust that leaves you gasping, your body arching up into him as you cling to the edge of another orgasm. “I’m your daddy, no one has me like you do, no one will ever have me the way you do, no one does it for me like you.”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you cry out, the intensity of his words and the rhythm of his hips pushing you over the edge again. You scream, your entire body trembling as you cum, muscles contracting around him, gripping him tight. But Rafe isn’t done. He fucks you even harder, his hips snapping against yours with brutal precision as you whimper beneath him. Another slap to your face makes your head spin, and just as he’s on the verge of release, he pulls out, his breath ragged and heavy.

With a guttural groan, Rafe pumps his cock, cumming all over your mouth and tits. The warmth of his seed covers you, and before you can catch your breath, he grabs your coils, forcing your head down toward your own chest. His grip is firm but not painful, and you follow his lead, your tongue flicking out to lick up his cum from your perky breasts, swallowing every drop as it mixes with what’s already in your mouth.

“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, voice low and rough.

You obey, and his semi-hard dick slaps against your cheek as he chuckles darkly. “That’s my good little bitch,” he whispers, his hand still tangled in your hair. “That’s my good girl.”

When he’s satisfied, he pulls back, the intense dominance fading as he lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms for a brief moment of tenderness. The warmth of his body presses against yours as you both catch your breath. After a moment, Rafe slips out of bed and grabs a towel, cleaning you up gently as if his roughness never happened. He moves with care, wiping the cum from your skin while you watch him, your chest still heaving from the intensity of it all.

As he pulls on his shirt, you sit up, adjusting your bonnet over your curly hair, still watching him in silence. He catches your gaze, his expression softening in a way you’ve never seen before. Moving closer, Rafe leans in, whispering in your ear so quietly that you almost miss it.

“I love you.”

The words shock you, leaving you frozen as he stands up, offering a smile before walking away, leaving you to process everything he just said.

A/N- Love me some Rafe, requests are open for him, JJ, and Pope.

[doll-face222]

Had this idea about Rafe’s best friend! Reader who hasn’t been with anyone in like a year and is getting really worked up. Maybe she had a terrible week and there was a last straw and she’s yelling and yanking on her hair and throwing things and Rafe is kind of realizing she just needs to be totally dominated and taken care of so he does

rafe x bsf!reader

a/n: i totally love that idea anon !! first time writing ever i just didnt want to let sweet nonnie down, so apologies if its not that good !

cw: smut, swearing, drool.

rafe knew you haven’t had a hookup in ages. you would vaguely mention it, when it would be just the two of you in either one’s rooms. if he was being honest, he pitied you. he even wanted to be the one to help you…

you were pissed off the whole week. maybe it was your hormones, with the way you would get annoyed at everything.

whether it be traffic making you late to events, or people at the country club being rude, steam was coming out of your ears.

you were like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode anytime now. good thing your bestfriend kept you grounded whenever you were feeling overstimulated.

so there you were, in your room getting ready for dinner with your family and the camerons. rafe on your bed scrolling on his phone, patiently waiting for you.

you were quiet while doing your makeup on your vanity table, not your usual chatty self. normally you would go on and on about anything and everything under the sun, yapping for hours on end.

rafe knew something was up.

“something wrong bunny?” he asked, using the nickname he gave you referring to the time you dressed up as a bunny for halloween when you two were little.

“no,” you replied with a pout, voice barely above a whisper.

rafe knew better than to push you, so he just sighed and kept quiet.

a few moments have passed, and rafe hears a soft ‘oh fuck’, a thud, and heavy breathing from your vanity. he looks up from his phone and sees your head down, soft sobs coming from the table.

when he got up to come closer, you shot up. screaming, crying, wailing even. rafe could see your problem now: you smudged your mascara. you started yanking out your hair curlers, figuring they were useless if your makeup was ruined anyway.

“woah woah- hey bun!” he yelled, pulling you by your waist. he placed you on your bed, rubbing up and down your arms to soothe you.

rafe guided you gently so you were laying your head on your pillows. he was in between your legs, arms caging your frame.

“shh calm down baby,” he whispered, wiping your mascara stained eyes with his thumbs.

he petted your hair, large hands slowly making their way to your cheeks.

“i’m here, i’m here.” he cooed as your cries hushed, turning into soft hiccups.

in this position he could feel you wet through your bloomers. he looked at your eyes as if to ask for permission silently, before he cupped your mound through the frilly fabric.

“what d’you need bunny?”

“need you rafey,” you whined. he carefully pulled down your bloomers, a string of slick connecting your pussy to the fabric.

rafe grew hard at the sight, taking his thumb to run across your slit. his other thumb trailing to play with your nipples through your top.

you mewl at the simultaneous sensations, given you haven’t experienced them in a long while. he took that as a sign to circle your clit, causing your eyes to shut and your legs to close, only to be blocked by rafe’s broad figure.

he then plunged two fingers in and out of you, thick digits stretching your tight hole. rafe’s hand that was previously playing with your tits find their way to your mouth, muffling your lewd moans.

“let’s be quiet bunny. your parents might be downstairs” he shushed, deep voice making your pussy clamp down on his fingers.

fingers curling up to hit your sweet spot, rafe could feel you getting close.

“you can cum baby, go ��head,” he signals, feeling you gush all over his hand. eyes rolling to the back of your head, you felt euphoria rush through you.

as you rode out your high, rafe removes his hand from your mouth, drool dripping from your mouth and his hand.

“sorry,” you squeaked. he didn’t mind anyway, just happy you probably had your first orgasm not from your own fingers in months.

it never occured to you that this was an option, to be touched by your own bestfriend. this wouldn’t be the last time it happens, you could tell.

“thank you rafey.” you smiled weakly at him, looking through your lashes. he didn’t say anything, just kissed your forehead.

“are we late to dinner?” you asked, suddenly remembering why you were getting ready.

“i drive fast, we’ll make it,” he smirks, grabbing your small hand to cup the bulge through his pants.

dinner could wait.

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated !! love, scarlet.

[itneverendshere]

can we see rafe with a pouge reader and they are dating. they go out to go grocery shopping and rafe sees that she has a calculator out and watches as she picks up an item then types it in the calculator and then puts it back and chooses a cheaper option and he has to tell her that she doesn’t need to do that

birds of a feather - rafe cameron

word count: 2.9k belongs to this universe

The grocery store is quiet for a saturday afternoon, a rarity that makes the experience almost peaceful. Fluorescent lights buzz softly overhead as Rafe pushes a cart lazily with one hand, his other hand draped comfortably around his girl, you. 

He catches your eye and smiles, relishing the way you always lean into him, your bodies fitting together perfectly. Dating you was like finding the missing piece of himself—something he always knew he needed but never thought he’d find, let alone on the other side of the island.

Rafe grabs a box of cereal, tossing it into the cart without a second thought. “You good on milk, babe?” he asks, scanning the shelves for anything else that might catch his eye.

You nodded absentmindedly, focusing elsewhere. He notices that you are holding your phone in one hand and have a small calculator app open. His brow furrows as he watches you pick up a box of pasta, glance at the price, and then quickly type something into the calculator. After a moment of calculation, you place the box back on the shelf and reach for a cheaper brand.

Rafe's heart clenches. He hadn’t really thought about the differences between you in this way before. He knows you don't have the same privileges he does—didn’t grow up in a life of luxury as he had—but it’s moments like this that make him feel like a fucking entitled douche. 

He watches you do it again, this time with a jar of tomato sauce. You compare the prices, calculate the difference, and opt for the less expensive one.

“Hey,” Rafe stops you as you reach for another item. “What’re you doing?”

You blink, as if coming out of a trance, and look up at him with almost embarrassed smile. “Just trying to make sure I stay within the budget. Groceries can add up, y’know?”

He can’t stand the idea of you worrying about something as basic as food. Sure, he understands budgeting—everyone has to do it to some extent—but this? This was different. This was a mindset.

He gently takes the phone from your hand and slips it into his back pocket, keeping your hand in his. “You don’t need to do that. I’ve got you, okay?”

“Rafe, I—”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, “You don’t have to worry about the prices. Just get what you want. We’re fine.”

You are grateful—God, you were always grateful—but there’s something else, something that has kept you up at night.

You hate relying on him. Not because you don’t trust him or appreciate everything he does for you, but because it reminds you of the whispers you’ve been hearing ever since you started dating. 

You can almost hear the voices now, like a nagging reminder in the back of your mind. “Gold digger,” they’d hiss. “Dirty Pogue. Look at her, clinging to him for the money. She’s got him wrapped around her finger, totally pussy-whipped.”

The rumors had messed with your head the first time you’d heard them, and even now, they still hurt, despite knowing they weren’t true. But the worst part is that a small, insecure part of you hates there might be some truth to what they said. You didn’t want Rafe to feel like he had to take care of you, or that you were using him for his money. You love him too much to ever want him to think that.

You glance at him, watching as he casually tosses another item into the cart without checking the price, without even a second thought. He’s so at ease, so unbothered by the things that you had worried about during your entire lifetime. You can’t help but feel guilty, like you’re dragging him down, making him take on responsibilities that should be yours alone. 

A you walk down another aisle, you keep your eyes on the floor, as you force the words out. “I know you’re just trying to help, and I really appreciate it, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me.”

Rafe stops in his tracks, turning to face you fully. His brows knit together in concern like he genuinely can't grasp what you just said.

“I don’t feel like that,” he says,“I want to take care of you because I love you. It’s not about feeling like I have to—it’s because I want to.”

“But I hear what people say, Rafe—”

“They don’t know shit,” he scoffs, hand wrapping tightly around the cart, “They don’t know. Anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves.”

You sigh, your shoulders slumping as you lean into him, “It’s not that simple, baby. But I appreciate the thought.”

His other hand tilts your chin up so you’re looking directly at him, “It is that simple. I love you. You love me. That’s it.”

You know he means it, that he’s not just saying it to please you, but it doesn’t make the worries disappear. You nod, giving him a small smile, but he knows your brain is working double shifts, imagining all kinds of scenarios.

He sighs, knowing this conversation is far from over, and presses a gentle peck against your temple, all while murmuring, “Let’s finish up here and get out of this place.”

You agree, and the two of you continue down the aisle. Your hands are itching to take your phone out of his back pocket, and your brain scrambling to do simple math. You hate it. You automatically reach for the off-brand items, skip over the more expensive snacks, and choose the smaller sizes of products to stretch your budget. Rafe is abnormally quiet and you know it’s taking every will power in his body not to pick you up and lock you in his truck while he finishes shopping for you. 

He pauses in front of the snacks aisle, his eyes catching on your favorite candy. It’s something he knows you love but rarely allow yourself to buy. Without hesitation, he grabs a couple of bags and tosses them into the cart.

“Rafe, those are expensive—” you start to protest, but he cuts you off with a playful grin.

“They’re my favorite too.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the way he looks at you, with so much affection, makes the words die on your lips. Instead, you shake your head huffing as he wraps his arm around your shoulders dragging you along, “You’re so annoying.”

“Don’t be mean, baby.”

You squeeze his waist in retaliation. 

When you finally reach the checkout line, he watches as you nervously glance at the total on the screen. It’s a small thing, for him, but it’s enough to make him realize just how much it affects you. Without saying a word, he hands over his card to the cashier, ignoring the way you try to protest.

“Rafe, you don’t have to—” you start, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“I know,” he says firmly, “But I want to.”

You bite your lip, nodding reluctantly as he pays for the groceries. It’s a small gesture, but it means the world to him. He wants to take care of you, to make sure you never have to worry about something as basic as food ever again. He wants to give you the life you deserve, the one you never experienced on The Cut.

He opens the trunk of his car, starting to load the groceries while you stand there, too quiet. He hates not hearing the sound of your voice. 

“Hey,” he closes the trunk and turning to face you. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He steps closer, his hand finding a home in your neck, thumb caressing your pulsing point, “Forget about them okay?”

You sigh, forehead touching his chin, “I’m trying. I just don’t want to be a burden to you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me.”

“You’re not a burden,” he says firmly, fingers pulling your head up, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that, no matter how often it happens, still takes your breath away. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Now get that fine ass inside the car.”

You can’t help but laugh at the way he says it, so casually and with so much conviction that it leaves no room for you to second guess his thoughts. His confidence, his overwhelming trust in everything that he says, is one of the things you love most about him. He’s always been like that—bold, sure of himself, and unafraid to go after what he wants. And right now, what he wants is you. 

“Why?” You tease, rolling your eyes but smiling as you let him guide you toward the car “You gonna make me if I don’t?”

You wish you could photograph the grin on his face, the way his beautiful eyes seem to drink you in like he’ll die if he doesn’t look at you all the time. 

“Oh, you know I will,” he says as he steps closer, his hand slipping down to give your ass a firm but playful slap. The sound echoes through the quiet parking lot, and you gasp, more from surprise than anything else.

“Rafe!” you scold, though your laughter makes it known there’s no real annoyance. The smirk on his face only grows, clearly pleased with himself.

“Consider that a warning,” he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I’d hate to have to follow through.”

You try to hold back a grin, biting your lip as you tilt your head to look up at him. 

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” His tone is a challenge.

For a moment, you consider pushing more just to see what he’d do, but the way he’s looking at you—like he’s ready to scoop you up and take you back to his bed right then and there—makes you rethink it. Instead, you play along, giving him a coy smile as you turn and head for the door.

“That’s what I thought,” he calls after you, his deep voice filled with a smug satisfaction that makes you roll your eyes again. Before you can reach for the door handle, he gently pulls it open for you. You slide into the passenger seat, and before you touch the seatbelt, Rafe is leaning in, his hands brushing over yours as he clicks the belt into place.

“Safe and sound,” he murmurs, as he pulls back slightly. It’s something so simple, yet so endearing he has insisted on doing ever since the two of you started dating.

You smile up at him, practically oozing in your love for him as your hand reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

“Thank you."

His gaze softens as he leans down to press a tender kiss to your lips, “Anything for you,” he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek before he finally steps back and closes the door.

As he rounds the front of the car to get in on his side, you can’t help but watch him. It still blows your mind that this is real. The way he looks at you, the way he takes care of you without making you feel small—it’s everything you never knew you needed. You’re still not used to someone loving you like this, so openly. You never imagined Rafe Cameron would be that someone. 

He starts the engine, the low hum filling the silence between you. The radio automatically tunes to a soft indie station, one of your favorites, and Rafe reaches over to lace his fingers with yours. 

“I’m cooking tonight.”

You turn to him, even though you know his attention is on the road, “Really?”

Rafe’s thumb absentmindedly rubs circles on the back of your hand, “Hmmm.”

“So you can burn down the kitchen again?”

“Baby, that was one time.”

You snort, the image of Rafe with a fire extinguisher still fresh in your memory, “What’s on the menu?”

He grins, “I was thinking we could make that pasta you like, with the garlic bread.”

Your heart swells a little at the thoughtfulness behind his choice. He remembers all the little things—your favorite foods, the way you like your coffee, the songs that make you smile.

“Are you trying to get laid?”

He laughs, loud and boisterous as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, “So you don’t want desert?”

You hit his shoulder gently, all too aware you’re still in a moving vehicle, “Don’t be nasty.”

His touch moves to your thighs, squeezing gently, "Can't help it when I'm around you."

The smile tugging at your lips is impossible to hide. There's something so easy about being with Rafe, despite everything. Despite the whispers, the looks, the insecurities that sometimes creep in—he has a way of making you feel like none of it matters. 

The city lights begin to twinkle on the horizon, the sun dipping low in the sky. It's peaceful, the kind of quiet that lets you sink into yourself. The idea of a cozy night in, just the two of you cooking dinner together, fills you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the summer heat outside.

Rafe glances over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Penny for your thoughts?"

You shake your head, the smile widening on your face. "Just thinking about how lucky I am."

He quirks an eyebrow, "I think I'm the lucky one."

"Yeah, but you're also really annoying," you tease, earning a chuckle from him.

"Annoying but irresistible," he counters smoothly, pulling into the driveway of his house 

He parks the car and quickly rounds the front to open your door, always the gentleman. As you step out, you look up at him, your heart swelling with a love so deep it almost overwhelms you. It's not just the grand gestures or the way he spoils you—it's the little things, the way he makes you feel cherished, the way he sees you for who you are and loves you anyway.

"Ready for our gourmet meal?" he asks as he takes your hand, leading you towards the front door.

You laugh, leaning into him as you walk. "If by gourmet you mean slightly burnt, then yes."

He chuckles, his arm slipping around your waist as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "With you, it's always perfect."

Before you can walk through the front door, he stops all too suddenly, dragging you against him. You’re confused for a second, looking up to see him ogle you.

“What?” You stutter out, “Something’s wrong?”

Rafe shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his pink lips as he looks down at you with that same adoring expression that never fails to make your heart  stop. "No, nothing’s wrong.”

You blink up at him, still confused, “Rafe...”

 “I know you worry sometimes. About what people say, about what they think. But I don’t give a fuck about any of that. I only care about you, about us.” His hand moves to cup your face, his thumb moving gently along your cheekbone. “I love you, y’know that? Right? Aways.”

Your breath hitches at the sudden emotion in his voice. It’s random moments like this that remind you why you fell in love with him in the first place—beneath the confident, cocky exterior, Rafe Cameron has a heart that beats fiercely for the people he cares about, especially for you. 

“I love you,” you whisper, feeling the words settle between you like a vow.

“I love you more,” he replies, his voice full of conviction. Then, with a small grin, he adds, “And I’m gonna marry you someday. We’re gonna have our own place, our own life. Just you and me.”

It’s not the first time you’ve talked about the future, but hearing him say it so plainly, so confidently, sends a warmth spreading through your whole body.

“Is that a proposal, Cameron?” you tease, though your voice wavers just a little, eyes burning as you pathetically attempt not to cry.

“Not yet,” he smirks, leaning down to press a peck to the corner of your lips, “But when I do, you’ll know. It’s gonna be perfect. Just like you.”

You pull back slightly, resting your forehead against his as you take a deep breath, trying to calm the stupid fluttering in your chest. “You mean it?”

“More than anything,” he replies without hesitation. “I want to build a life with you, baby. The kind of life where you never have to worry about anything, where you can just be happy.”

Tears form at the corners of your eyes, but they’re the good kind, the kind that comes from being overwhelmed with love. So different from the ones you’d experienced as a kid, growing up. You nod, not sure how to explain how you’re feeling inside, so instead, you pull him down for another kiss, letting your lips show what your voice can’t.

You kiss each other like you have all the time in the world, which you have, savoring the way your lips fit perfectly against his. There’s no rush, no urgency—just you two. 

When you pull apart, both of you slightly breathless, Rafe gives you a lopsided grin, his lips just barely grazing yours as he speaks, “So, how about we start with dinner?”

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

“𝐗” - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚗𝙳𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 | 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 | 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞

𝖈𝖔-𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍: @shawtycoreee

𝓇𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓎𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 - 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝑜𝓃𝑒

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱/𝔰𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡𝔲𝔩𝔢

⚠️ warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Kissing, swearing, pussy slapping, cheating, CNC, name calling, degradation, hair pulling, murder, blood, gore, ownership kink, rough sex, praise, change in POVs

📖 Famous porn director Rafe Cameron hires you to shoot a porno with your boyfriend at his big, beautiful house in Figure Eight.

🔪 "I'm her boyfriend," his voice cracks with nerves. He clears his throat, staring him down.

"Sure you are," Rafe smiles." 🔪

3.9K

Reader’s POV:

“What are you freakin’ out for, baby?” Trent scoffs, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You cross your arms, relaxing a little more in the seat as you kick your feet on the dash.

”Obviously, I’m freaking out over nothing,” you clip, rolling your eyes away and huffing out a frustrated breath. You look out the window, watching as the scenery changes—weathered beach shacks and hole-in-the-wall businesses of The Cut exchanged for the luxury of Figure Eight. Your stomach twists in nervous knots—a feeling deep in your gut that your life was about to change forever.

”This right here… This is the big time, sugar. You see where we are? This man has money. You wanna be a star, don’t you? You want the whole world to know your name. Right?”

“‘Course I wanna be a star, Trent. Rafe just freaks me out.” You twirl your hair in nervousness. “I don’t know. Doesn’t he creep you out?” You ask, feeling goosebumps scatter on your arms, uneasiness setting in as you get closer.

“I mean, the man has a starin’ problem, sure, but ain’t that his job? He’s supposed to be catchin’ everything. He directs pornos… Pretty sure that comes with the territory.”

“I guess,” you sigh, loosening up slightly at his explanation—a soft smile forming on your face.

Trent grins at your cooperation, “atta girl,” he purrs, lovingly patting your thigh. “You know, baby, at the end of the day, the director havin’ a little crush on you ain’t the worst thing in the world. If this goes well, who knows what’ll happen? Maybe he’ll keep askin’ us back. Keep feedin’ our pockets. You know I’m right.”

“You’re right,” you assure.

“Well, would you look at this?” Trent breathes as you drive onto the grounds of Tanneyhill, pulling up the drive, eyeing the mini-mansion before you. It’s gorgeous, perfectly groomed, the definition of excess. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before, let alone fucked in. You suck in a deep breath at the monumental sight before you, riding an indescribable high.

“We’re shootin’ here?” You ask, an ounce of awe in your voice as you gaze upward. The two of you usually set up in some dingy motel on The Cut— the pair of you too used to sticky tiles, stained mattresses, and peeling wallpaper. This was far from the norm.

“What did I say, baby doll? This is the big time.” He shrugs brashly, flashing you a wolfish grin—you swore you could see dollar signs dancing in his eyes.

“The big time,” you echo, exhaling shakily. Trent leans towards, cupping your cheeks in his hands before kissing you softly.

“I know you’re still nervous, but you gotta settle down, pretty girl. You got that X factor… Don’t get in your head.” you nod slowly, drinking his every word.

“I won’t,” you whisper.

Trent looks at the clock on the dash, two minutes past two. He sighs before giving you one last push. “You're special, y/n. Ain't nobody else out there like you. Now, giddyup, time is money. Let’s go make some movie magic. Huh?”

You smile and nod, biting your lip in anticipation and excitement. Trent quickly steps out of the car, walking around to your side before opening the door. You step out onto the pavement, your sky-high Pleaser heels hitting the ground with a loud clack. You adjust your little cut-off jean shorts, pulling the fabric down before fixing your tits. You were ready— ready to star in the film that would ultimately change your life.

“You’re a fuckin’ sex symbol, princess,” he praises as he smacks your ass playfully. You blush at his words, a burst of sensuality swaying in your stride.

“I am, aren’t I,” you smile blissfully as you look up to the sky, basking in the North Carolina sun. The two of you stroll up the cobblestone walk to the front doors of the place, your nerves subsiding with every step. Trent lifts his fist to knock on the door but before he can even make contact, it fans open.

“Welcome,” you hear Rafe’s warm voice. He looks expensive; extremely handsome, his voice not doing him enough justice over the phone. “Come in.” The two of you step inside, eyes dancing around as you take everything in. “Didn’t think you two were comin’,” Rafe rasps as he slides a cigarette out from behind his ear, resting it between his lips.

“We’re five minutes late,” you whisper to Trent, who gives you a look of warning to shut the fuck up.

“If you ain’t early, you’re late,” Rafe breathes through his exhale.

“Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly as the blonde towers over you, looking down at you with a predatory stare.

“You got nothin’ to be sorry about, princess. You weren’t drivin’. Were you?” He asks as he hooks his finger under your chin, guiding your eyes to his. You shake your head ‘no’, batting your lashes at the beautiful man. “You’re fuckin’ stunning,” he praises as his crystal blue eyes stare into yours. “I’m gonna make you a star, honey. I promise,” he murmurs, making a small kissing gesture, before giving you a cheeky wink. Trent was right. This could be good for me. This could be it.

“Okay,” you smile up at him, feeling your heart start to race.

“First hallway on the left,” Rafe nods, gesturing down the way. The deeper you two walk into the estate, the deeper your amazement. Movie posters line the walls of the dark hall, porno cover after cover illuminated by the chandelier light fixtures from up above. All of them had the same name plastered in the top-left corner: Rafe Cameron. You look over your shoulder, watching as he watches you, feeling a little starstruck after seeing his successes. His eyes lift from your ass to your eyes, a smug smile tugging on his perfect lips.

“What’s this,” you whisper as you walk into the room, eyeing the setup: a two cameras on the ready, studio lighting, but no bed… Nothing. Your brows rumple in confusion as you look back at the director. “We’re shootin’ a porno. Correct? You expect me to get fucked on the floor like some kind of animal?” You ask, only half-kidding. Rafe chuckles in reply, amused by your sincere distrust in him. He let out a puff before pointing his cigarette toward the wall.

“See that, angel? Your friend goes on this side. N’ you will go on the other. There’s a camera ready to capture that pretty little face of yours. You see that hole right there. That’s a gloryhole. M’kay. This is just the first scene, though, honey. Wanna get this one out of the way. So—” he claps, rubbing his ringed hands together “—let's get started.”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Trent challenges, too prideful to let the little “friend” comment go.

”What?” Rafe chuckles cruelly, Trent's correction given so far after the fact that it’s laughable.

”I’m her boyfriend,” his voice cracks with nerves. He clears his throat, puffing out his chest slightly.

“Sure you are,” Rafe smiles. Trent’s cheeks flush with anger; you take your turn, silencing him, giving Trent a death glare. “Well, in this flick, you aren’t. She’s mine. Well, the brothels anyway. You’re just payin’ for pussy.”

Trent clenches his fists; his anger bubbling in his chest. “Yes, sir,” he mumbles, taking the higher road for the moment.

“Let me show you where you’ll be tapin’-”

“Do you want me to come with?” Trent interjects as his possessiveness starts to bleed through. He’s surprised by Rafe, that’s clear, unable to deny Rafe’s wickedly handsome looks, regardless of whether he is creepy or not. Rafe fixes his face, holding back a laugh as he catches your boyfriend’s newfound insecurities.

“Nah. I got it. We’ll start rollin’ in a second, lover-boy. You’ll keep your clothes on to start, then zipper down, cock out after I call action. We’ll go from there,” Rafe directs, his eyes never leaving yours.

“N’what’s she gonna wear?” Trent questions wearily as if you aren’t all aware.

“Jesus, fuck,” Rafe grumbles, just over a hush, getting more and more annoyed by the second. “We’re shootin’ a porno, kid. The fuck do you think she’s gonna wear?” He spits. “Are you a goddamn pussy or a porn star?”

“I’m… Sh-Shit - I’m a porn star obvio-”

“That was a rhetorical question,” Rafe taunts. “Pull your head out of your ass or I’ll find someone else to fuck your girl. Understood?”

”Understood,” Trent breathes.

“N’you… Looks like Trent’s stage fright is rubbin’ off on you. I’ve watched all your shit. Every last one of ‘em. Don’t let anyone get in your way. Aight?” Rafe throws his spent cigarette on the floor, crushing it with the heel of his designer loafer. “‘Specially that bitch,” he hums, his words like a secret. You look up at Rafe, giving him an uneasy smile as his large hand rests on your back, leading you out of the room toward the other.

You look back at Trent as the two of you walk out of the room, his emotions so clearly painted all over his face as he wears his heart on his sleeve. You give him one last look, a silent ‘pull your shit together’. He’s not gonna ruin this for me. Rafe guides you to the other room; that same hole cut into the wall, a bed flush with the division, a camera pointing down where you’ll lie. “You need some help gettin’ out of your things, sweetheart?” He asks from behind the lens, playing around with the angles. He turns his full attention to you, eyes trailing your movements.

“No, I’m fine,” you breathe as you unbutton your shorts, the splaying of the zipper making him lick his lips. He looks at you hungrily as you pull the material over your curves, cut-offs falling to a puddle at your heels. He stops himself from wanting to take you right then and there.

“Well, shit,” he praises as he steps closer, eyeing the minimal material of your panties. “These just might be too pretty to take off,” he hums as his long finger loops around the band at your hip, snapping it against your skin, making you gasp at the sensation tingling through your body. “Can I?” He asks as he plays with your panties a little more. You give him a nod, Rafe quickly running his rough digits along the fabric, tugging them to the side, imagining a cock ramming into your soaked hole. “Mmpfh… Shit. Off - Yeah. Yeah. Off, I think. Honestly, I don’t think I could make a mistake with you if I tried,” he praises, his low, husky tone laced with lust. Rafe loops his fingers around the material, dragging your panties down your thighs slowly. His fingers work their way up your leg, drifting under your tube top as if to take it off. “Pussy’s too pretty not to show.” You step back as you grab your top, pulling it off your body. The blonde smirks as you take the initiative, his eyes wandering to your exposed chest. Rafe lets out a hungry groan as your boobs bounce out, nipples hard from the chilled air. “Well, you look like a star, baby doll. There’s no denyin’ that,” he groans in a sleazy tone as he spins you under his finger, studying your curves.

“Thank you,” you add, cheeks warming up under his watchful eye, loving his attention. Rafe grabs your hand, helping you to the table, before lifting you onto the plush top. You gasp as he uses his muscles, pulling you exactly where he wants you with a heavy hand. Your heart beats faster, seeing his sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips at your reaction.

He walks over to the camera, checking the lens, catching his angle before adjusting to the perfect spot. “Alright, pretty. Let’s get this scene outta the way, and then we can all film in the same room. Yeah? I’m guessing your boy isn’t gonna make you finish like this. No fake orgasms. Clear? I need the real deal.” You nod in agreement one moment, jumping the next, as Trent's fingers graze the inside of your thighs.

“You doin’ okay in there, baby?” He asks softly.

“M’Perfect, Trent,” you chirp.

“You are perfect. Aren’t you, princess,” Rafe pipes in, shooting you another wink that has your breath hitching. Trent’s fingers press on your pearl, rubbing soft circles on top, prepping you as Rafe walks around to the other side.

Your eyes flutter shut as you try to focus on the conversation on the other side— just a jumbled mess of Rafe and Trent, nothing comprehensible. Music surrounds you, filling the small room with sound, that same noise coming from the other room as well, Rafe, setting an ambiance.

Trent’s POV:

“Focus on her… Focus on, y/n,” I chant in my head again and again as my fingers glide through her drenched cunt. She’s so fuckin’ wet. Wetter than usual. I know this pussy like the back of my hand. Someone got her excited, and I knew exactly who it was.

Sure, he’s creepy; we both knew that before we walked in, but I didn’t know he would be so fucking handsome. She wants to be a star. I WANT her to be a star, but I can’t get her there like he can. Anyone can fuck… He’s got the means and the power. Just gotta get through this. Gotta bring her home and remind her all the reasons she loves me, but is love enough?

“Trent? You good, brother?” Rafe asks, looking back at me like I’m some kinda fool. His eyes fall, his scowl shifting to a smile, but not at me, watching as my fingers toy with my girl's perfect cunt. My girl. Mine. I lift my hand to my mouth, suckin’ her taste off my fingers.

“Never better,” I rasp.

Rafe’s brows lift in surprise at the change in my tone. Even I hear it, boyish and insecure to deep and cocky. Fuck this guy. I slap my fingers against her cunt, making her whimper, letting Rafe hear her for himself. “Yeah, buddy. She’s ready, too,” I laugh, watching his handsome features sharpen.

“Alls you gotta do is fuck her. Think you can do that?” He asks sharply as he extends his hand, snapping and pointing to the mark on the floor beside him.

”You’ve seen my shit, Cameron. You know I got no problem with that; that’s why you’re payin’ me to fuck my girlfriend. Yeah?” I respond matter-of-factly as I step away from the wall, shuffling out of the frame.

A smile slides across his lips, his large, muscular arms crossing over his chest. “Absolutely,” he replies. “Just step in when I call ‘action’, Star Boy.” Rafe steps behind the camera, counting me on. “Action.” I walk toward the wall, taking her in like it’s the very first time.

“Well fuck,” I groan as I peek at my girl through the division, my cock painfully hard in my jeans from a mixture of adrenaline and arousal. Rafe shifts the camera, catching the scene as I lower my zipper, pulling out my dick. I smile wickedly, tongue gliding along my bottom lip. He may be hotter than me, but, fuck, if I ain’t hung like a porn star. I hold my long, thick cock in my hand, jerking myself at the sight of her, letting a needy moan drip from my lips. “You got a pretty pussy. Don’t you, slut?” I mumble.

I grab my fat cock, running my head through her soaked folds, coating my tip with her slick as I throw my head back. I trace my dick a little lower, tip catching on her tight hole, teasing her, stretching her out slightly with my swollen tip. She scoots a little closer, ass pressed even further against the wall, craving more of me. Good girl. My deep moan fills the room as I pitch my hips forward, filling her to the hilt. The music in the room is loud, but I can still hear her sweet noises through the hole. Hear that, Rafe?

“Goddamnit… You always this wet for your customers?” I ask as I pull out, slamming back in fast. “Or are you just this wet for Daddy?” I let out a laugh, desperately wanting to look back and see the look on Rafe’s face as her sounds of pleasure come through with every rock and thrust. I press my hands against the wall, using it as leverage to stroke even quicker, fucking into my girl fast. He wouldn't be able to fuck you like I can, baby.

I hear a whistle, catching my attention. I look behind the camera, but Rafe’s not there anymore. What the fuck? My thrusts stall; the hairs on the back of my neck stand up….

“SHIT!”

Reader’s POV:

The sounds of your pleasure flow like a song from your lips, breathy and soft, just like your audience loves. You break the fourth wall, looking at the camera for a moment, running your hands up your body, taking hold of your tits, squeezing them tight. You roll your eyes as Trent drags his long, thick cock out of your drenched pussy, slamming back in again, making you wail.

He takes a quicker pace, shifting his stance, hitting a new angle that has you seeing stars. His cockhead strikes your sweet spot with each stroke, bringing you closer and closer to your finish. “Yes. Yes. Yes!” You cry out, back arching off the bed as you cum all over your boyfriend's cock. He doesn’t let up, working you through your orgasm with precision, adding his fingers to your clit as well, your body trembling with overstimulation. You feel a second release, squirting on his dick, making an absolute mess in the other room. Trent taps your clit, making tears pool in your lidded eyes.

He pulls out, causing you to gasp at the loss of him, the man pointing his tip at your pussy, jerking his cock quickly, spurting warm ropes of cum on your pretty little cunt. Goosebumps spread across your body as his sticky cum slips down your folds. He traces his throbbing tip through you, catching the mess before stuffing himself back inside.

His large hand reaches through the slight space in the hole as well, pressing against the bulge in your lower stomach, making you whimper and whine. Your heart and stomach fall as that same hand drags back. RC etched into a gold ring on his middle finger, a crimson trail of red blood following on your belly. You scream in terror as he pulls out, you, crawling backward on the bed to put space between you and the man on the other side. “TRENT!” You shriek at the top of your lungs. You look through the hole as Rafe walks away, watching as he follows Trent, who’s dragging himself along the floor, trailing a thick streak of blood behind him.

Your hands clamp over your mouth, muffling another cry as Rafe draws back a knife, stabbing him once, twice, three times. Your eyes slam shut, and your body falls into a state of complete and utter shock. You look for a way out— the window or the door. He’d surely be walking in any second. Maybe I can jump out the window and run to the car? But I don’t have keys. Maybe I can just run. You leap off the bed, running toward the window, grabbing it, pulling it with all your might, but it doesn’t budge.

“HELP ME!” You cry out, snatching your heel off your foot, slamming it against the glass again and again, watching as a crack splits and starts to spider. “Yes. Yes,” you sniffle, relieved the glass is giving. You hit it even harder, sending shards flying all over the room.

You look over your shoulder, watching the brass handle twist out of the corner of your eye, opening slowly. Rafe stands there, staring back at you with dead, dark eyes, his crisp button-down and unzipped slacks a mess with Trent’s blood. You swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, playing it off like maybe you don’t know what happened in the other room. Rafe's gaze lowers, landing on the bloodied streak on your bare stomach, your cowering body telling a story all of its own.

Shit.

He lunges for you, and you bound away, sprinting toward the door, tears streaming down your face. "Rafe, please stop," your voice trembles.

"I just wanna talk..." His tone is calm and collected, more unsettling than not, as you grab the doorknob, jarring the handle open to no avail. You shake your head wildly, wiping your tears on your arm as he stalks you nice and slow. He looks down at you with crazed eyes as he foots closer and closer, holding his blood-stained arms in the air to induce calmness in you. "Don’t worry, princess," he whispers. “I’ll make it quick.”

You scream as loud as you can, your voice echoing through the house. You prayed that someone—anyone would hear you. "P-Please, Rafe. Please!" You cry, snot pouring from your nose as your emotions run hot down your cheeks. Your heart beats out of your chest as your throat closes tighter by the second. “Please," you sniffle, “don’t kill me.” Rafe grabs you, tearing you away from the door by your hair. Your entire body trembles against his broad chest, his big arms making it next to impossible to fight free. "Rafe-"

You're cut off as he wraps his strong arm around your throat from the back, his other hand clutching the knife. You feel the point of the blade prod into your back, nerves jumping at the feeling. You scream one last time, surrendering to the man, praying that he’ll make it fast. He pulls you right where he wants you, angling the two of you in line with the camera. You’re finished; this is the end. You begin to weep softly, hiccuping and sniffling pathetically, looking back at your horrified face in the reflection of the camera lens.

Rafe turns into your neck as his large knife traces up your naked body coated in blood. “Why’d you think I asked you here? Huh? Filthy fuckin’ whore.” He slides his blade across your neck as you give him one final choked cry.

“And cut…”

Rafe smiles, tossing the knife to the floor, the sharp tip piercing into the foundation. With your eyes shut tight, you slowly feel his intensity subside, his muscles relaxing as he releases his grip around you. “My girl…” His voice is like honey in your ear. Your terrorized face melts into a giddy smile as Rafe’s soft lips meet your hot skin, kissing up your neck to the shell of your ear before nuzzling in. You look back through the hole, watching Trent’s eyes shut heavily, the man reaching for his last breaths. You roll your eyes at the sight, relieved to be finally done with him. Fucking loser. I mean, how many orgasms was I gonna have to fake? Even if he tried, he didn't have it in him to make me famous.

“We did it, baby,” Rafe mumbles affectionately. “Fuck, the whole world is gonna be lookin’ at you. America’s new scream queen,” he drawls as he turns your chin, his soft, sweet lips matching yours. You groan as you embrace his warm touch, fantasizing about this new, upcoming chapter in your life. He’s gonna make it all happen.

”Did I do a good job, Daddy?” You ask through a breathy sigh, eyes twinkling.

”Oh, princess… I’m gonna make you a fuckin’ star.”

A special thank you to @shawtycoreee 💕💕💕 it was so much fun working with you!!!!! Your mind and talent is amazing. And you're the sweetest too 🤭💕 mwwwahhh 😘

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, it was not pulling up an account 💕💕): @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @cl4uus @theeternaloptimistt @starkeysprincess @gri959 @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @aariahnaa @pinkqutz @hyperfixationgirl @akobx @daryldixon83 @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii @oxpogues4lifexo @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @savayvayblr-blog @unrealmirrorball @romaescapes @cades-outsider @ch4rrykisses @namelesslosers @anamiad00msday @buckybarnessweetheart @floredaqueen

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Rider

Pairings - Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

Summary- What happens after Rafe flips his bike.

Warnings- unprotected sex, choking, fingering, oral (male receiving), dirty talk. 18+

Watching Rafe speed through the sand on his dirt bike had your insides curling into themselves, your panties soaked and you worried people would be able to tell you were horny. Nibbling on the skin around your thumb and rubbing your thighs together you watched with wide eyes, your heart rattles against your ribcage harshly.

Rafe speeds up behind Maybank causing your nerves to triple as he gets closer to the blonde hair pogue, you know what’s about to happen before it does. Your eyes zone in on his front tire moments before it clips JJ’s back tire. It sends them both into the air, your eyes squeeze shut on instinct, the air in your lungs catching in your throat. Everything feels like it’s going in slow motion around you.

Gasps echo through your ears and you pop your eyes open once more, Rafe lay on the sand in a heap of limbs and motorbike gear, his bike lay half a mile away from his body. He hasn’t moved yet, your instinct is to run and that’s just what you do. You're sprinting across the sand before anyone can stop you, completely oblivious to the other bikes coming towards the two boys on the floor. Your sight is set on Rafe as your legs carry you towards him, he cranes his neck when he hears your name being screamed and his eyes go wide when he realizes you're coming for him. “Y/N!” He shouts, too slow to push himself to stand as a sharp pain jolts his lower back, his eyes darting between the bikes and you in panic.

His own heart is racing now, most likely matching the speed of your own. You're throwing yourself on him before he can stop you and he curls himself around you as the bikes skid by you sending the sand and dust into the air around you. He uses his body to shield you as John B abruptly breaks just before he hits JJ. All Rafe can hear is the sound of his heartbeat as he holds you tighter against his chest, your body hidden by his.

“Baby” you cry into his neck as you cling to him. His arms tighten around you as he feels you shake against him, the sound of you crying is drowned out by the cheers of the crowd. His anger bubbles in his chest at the idea of you getting hurt because he decided to fuck with Maybank. Angry at himself for putting you in danger.

“Hey hey it’s okay, I’m okay” he whispers into your hair, placing a hand behind your head and pressing you further into his neck. He can feel the wetness of your tears on his skin, he pulls the two of you up from the sand and you wrap your legs around his waist. Silence falls between the two of you as he walks away from the crowd, ignoring the calls from Topper. He walks you towards his car and puts you into the passenger seat, clipping the seat belt in. Your chest moves rapidly as you watch him in silence. “Stay here while I get someone to take my bike home” he orders, closing the door before you can argue.

Wiping away your tears you watch him walk over to Kelce, the two of them chat and you see him side glance Rafe’s car and he nods. You sit in silence for a few moments before Rafe turns to stalk back towards the car, your eyes dance down the length of his body. Remembering the butterflies in your belly before he had flipped off the bike, you watch him open his door and slide into the seat. “I’m sorry” you whisper, knowing he’s angry that you had put yourself in danger for him. He reaches over and grips your thigh, turning the ignition on as he pulls out of the car park.

You ride home in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles on your thigh. You chew at the skin around your nail again as you take sideway glances at him in the driver's seat. He’s half man spread in his seat, his jaw tense as he grinds his teeth together. Glasses sitting on the bridge of his perfect nose as he stares ahead, his hand moves every so often around the wheel as the light bounces off his ring into your eye. You're turned on again, squirming in your seat to get comfortable. Rafe dressed in his bike gear always made you hot and bothered. He takes a few sideway glances at you but you stare ahead, trying not to be so obvious. His fingers dig into the flesh of your inner thigh sending goosebumps down your arms, you catch the small smirk on his lips but he says nothing.

As you pull up to his house, he’s rounding the car to your side before you can open and he helps you out. His hand pressed firmly against your lower back as he walks you towards the porch, inserting the key into the lock and opening the door for you. “Rafe” you whisper, unsure if he’s still angry at you. You stand at the threshold waiting for him to turn around to look at you. “Are you mad?”.

“I was… but I have something else on my mind now” he states, lacing his fingers through yours and pulling you towards the living room. “What?” You question, he takes a seat on the couch and pats his lap. You go to take a seat on his thigh but he shakes his head, gripping your hips he maneuvers you so you're straddling him. Your skirt bunches up and he catches sight of your black panties, knowing exactly what ones you're wearing. The ones he had brought you with the little bow on the front. “You were fidgety in the car” he states, his palms rub up the length of your thighs as he stares up at you with a knowing smirk. The small dimple causes your inside to melt again, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Just worried you were angry”.

He lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head, pushing his hands further up your thigh. The material of your skirt now completely rolled up exposing your panties. “I don’t think that’s why.. I think your horny” and you shake your head in protest “if I slipped a finger into your panties you wouldn’t be wet?” He questions, raising his eyebrows at you. You pull away from him slightly but he pulls you back in, pressing your mound into his belt buckle causing a strangled moan to slip from your lips. “That’s what I thought”.

“I am angry you put yourself in danger, angry that I put you in danger but… I’d rather make you cum than tell you off for being stupid”

“Oh” is all you can manage, your clit throbs as he rocks his hips into you. “What’s got you so turned on baby?” He questions, halting his movements as he waits for your answer. “You”

“Of course… but what exactly?”

“Your outfit.. you on the bike.. before you flipped”

He hums, picking up the rhythm of his rocking again. The cool metal of his belt buckle pressed firmly against your aching clit. Your fingers curl around his shoulders as he plays with you, your mouth dropping open slightly to let out soft moans. “Use me baby… rock those hips and dry hump me” he orders, placing his arms behind his head as he stares up at you. His movements have stopped now and your hips have started to roll against him. “That’s it baby, don’t be quiet. Tell me what you want me to do to you after you make yourself cum on my lap” he says, eyes roaming from his lap to your face. His eyes are full with lust, his chest beats rapidly as he watches you fuck yourself against his lap. “I.. I want you to touch me”

“Yeah baby but where? Where do you want my hands?”

“I want them on my tits… and my pussy, I want your fingers inside of me oh fuck” You cry out, riding his belt buckle harder as your toes curl with pleasure. You can feel that familiar pressure already, your panties soaking through and coating his pants. “I can do that baby.. what else do you want? Hmm?” He questions, his hands have moved back to your thighs. Sliding up the sides until he grasps the flesh of your ass and helps you move your hips against him.

“Your cock!”

“I want your cock.. oh fuck… I need your cock Rafe! I need you to fuck..shit… fuck me, please fuck me!” You're whining and cursing, throwing your head back in ecstasy as your body shakes around him. Your orgasm riddles your body the moment he touches you again. “Oh! Oh yes yes”.

“That’s it baby.. doing such a good fucking job” he praises, pressing a kiss to your throat and then your chest. Your hands move to pull your shirt over your head, Rafe eyes your tits that are enclosed in a black bra. He snaps the clips at your back and pulls the bra down your arms exposing your tits to him. “Please” you beg when his hot breath tickles your chest, his mouth encloses around a nipple. Arching your chest into his mouth more, one of his hands spread across the top of your back as he suckles your breasts. “That feels so good” you whine, rolling your hips into him again. You can feel his hard cock through his pants and you so desperately want it inside of you. “I need you”.

He pulls away from your chest and pulls his own shirt over his head, your fingers run down the length of his chiseled stomach and begin fiddling with his belt, slipping your hand into his pants as he unzips himself. You pull his cock free and fists him tightly, moving your wrist up and down as pre cum coats his tip. “What do you want baby” he grunts as he watches you, eyeing his hard cock, you're slipping from his lap and kneeling between his legs. Taking his cock deep into your mouth, your tongue swirling against the soft skin.

You can feel him throb against your throat as you suck him back, his fingers placed into the back of your hair. He holds you tightly but doesn’t try to take control until he’s pulling you away and gripping you by the throat.

“Sit on my cock” he demands, his hand doesn’t leave your throat as you move back onto him, reaching for his cock you coat him with your juices by running the tip between your folds before pushing down onto him. Synchronized groans slip from your lips as his cock is buried deep inside of you, it almost feels like he’s in your stomach.

He lets you take control again but doesn’t let go of your throat, he pulls you to his lips and devours you as you bounce on him. “Fuck baby.. that’s it.. take what you want” he growls, sucking on your bottom lip. His fingertips press a little harder into your throat, causing the air to come out in shorter breaths. “I- I can’t breath” you whimper, he doesn’t loosen his thought. “Breath, slow baby.. in and out” he says, your fingers wrap around his wrist but you keep bouncing on his cock. Thighs aching with each movement, a thin sheen of sweat coats your body. “That’s it baby.. such a good girl, it feels so much better when your head is just a little dizzy”.

And he’s right, as your eyes go slightly cross eyed and your breaths come out in short puffs, the ache in your belly grows and your hips coming down harder. “Fuck” you cry out, your clit throbs. “Such a good girl.. that’s it baby, I can feel you strangling my cock. Your so fucking wet” he groans, he’s pulling you off his cock and pushing you into the cushions of the couch.

Your ass high in the air, he thrusts himself back into you and grips your hips tightly. “Yes! yes yes” you scream into the couch, arching your back and digging your nails into the material. His palms connect with your ass with a loud smack, his red handprint appearing seconds after, choking on your saliva as he gets you closer and closer to your release. His hand grips your hair tightly as he pushes your face into the couch, crowding your body as he pounds into you. You can feel the beat of his heart on your back and the throbbing of his cock between your walls. “Oh fuck Rafe… I’m gonna cum!” Your warning far too late as your body shakes with pleasure, his fingers toy with your clit causing what seems like an explosion of pleasure to take over your senses and you cry and whimper into the couch. He’s cumming into you moments later, your walls pulsating around his heavy cock. Shooting his cum deep inside of you, grunts of pleasure spill from his lips and his fingers dig deeper into your hips. “Fuck” he groans, loosening his fingers from your hair and hips. He pulls you away from the couch and slips his cock from within you, moving the both of you so you lay on your back.

“Don’t ever put yourself in danger again” he states a few minutes later, your hand pressed to his chest and leg wrapped over his legs. “Don’t you ever do something stupid like that again and I won’t have to put myself in danger”. He chuckles under his breath and kisses your lips.

“You're lucky I could tell you were horny on the way home otherwise this afternoon could have gone a whole other route” he says, craning your neck to look up at him as he stares down at you. “Well I was ready to jump your bones the moment the race finished but you ruined that by doing a flip… maybe you should go for a ride again and I can show you what I was planning on doing after…”

“Yeah?”

“Call Kelce and get your bike”

[rafesfuckdoll]

Come Over Please

summary: would you cheat on your boyfriend for your best friend? we'll see..

warnings: p in v, fingering, oral sex (reader receving), cheating, daddy calling. that's it i think....

word count: 1.2k

Rafe has been calling you continuously, but you have been rejecting his calls due to being busy. "Pick up the phone y/n" he mumbles to himself. After his third attempt, you finally answer and hear heavy breathing on the other end of the line. You were currently hanging out with your boyfriend Tristan "What's up Drew? I'm with Tristan" You said into your phone.

The sound of heavy breathing intensifies as Rafe hears your voice and realises you're with someone else. His heart drops, but his desire for you only grows stronger. "Fuck sorry.. I thought you were alone." He replies almost mumbling, making you get worried. No matter the circumstances, your best friend Rafe was always the most important person to you, even if you had a boyfriend. "Why? What's going on?" You ask curiously, noticing his heavy breathing. He struggles to compose himself. trying to push his desires to the side as he lies to you. "I've had quite the day and I thought we could have a little catch-up," Rafe stated, taking a deep breath to quiet his racing heart and hormones. "I'll be right there." You say before ending the call abruptly. You were going home anyway, so why not make a short visit to Rafe's house along the way? As time goes on, you say your goodbyes to your boyfriend.

After some time, you eventually reached Rafe's house, located right beside yours. You have lived next to each other since childhood. You approach his front door, aware that he was by himself at home because his dad was away on a business trip.

Rafe had barely put down the phone before he heard your knock on his door. He quickly rushes to open it, revealing himself in nothing but sweatpants that do little to hide his arousal "Hey... uh, come on in." You looked at him and rolled eyes, obviously knowing what he just did. "Were you in the middle of something?" You inquire as he closes the door, aware that his arousal did not go unnoticed. With a smirk playing on his lips, he bites down lightly, eyeing you with a combination of desire and lust. "Nah, just been getting some exercise." He deceives, walking into the room after you. "Mhm," you murmur as you head to his bedroom, the usual spot where you both hang out. Rafe observes you moving towards his bedroom, feeling his erection pulsating in his sweatpants. He tries compose himself, but he knows he wants you. He enters his room after you, perching on his bed and flashing a cocky grin in your direction. "What's with the cocky look?" You laughed, sitting down beside him and getting comfortable. He chuckles before saying, "Well, you know... I just can't help but want to fuck you right now." He said with a slight smirk formed on his lips, his eyes focused on your face. Instantly widening your eyes, you clear your throat. "Dude I have a literal boyfriend." He raised an eyebrow, his smirk never leaving his face. "I know, but that doesn't change the fact that I still want to fuck you, does it?" He grabs your thigh and squeezes it gently, looking at you with a mix of lust and desire. Glancing at your thigh before turning your eyes back to him. "I mean, okay... but I would never cheat, bro." You're not telling the truth. You would never cheat, that's a given, but Rafe was your soft spot, and you acknowledged it. You'd do anything for him.

Rafe smirks as he glides his hand up and down your thigh, his fingers lightly brushing against your private area beneath your sweatpants. "Who said anything about cheating? We can just have a little fun.. no strings attached." He moves his hand inside your pants, his fingers tracing around your panties pushing them to the side, ready to slip his fingers inside if you give him the go-ahead. The unexpected touch caused a moan to escape your lips as you swiftly grasped his hand and pushed it away from inside your pants. "What fun? how would it not be cheating.." He places his hand back on your thigh. "Well we wouldn't fuck.. i can just eat you out until you cum.." You listen to his words, taking it all in. You wanted it bad, he made you weak and you were completely horny at this point. However, the burden of guilt concerning Tristan persisted. "Hmm..." Rafe moves in closer, his warm breath brushing against your face. "Come on.. it'll be fun. I promise I won't tell anyone. You can just think of it as a.. one time thing.."

"Okay," you murmur quietly, your lower lip trapped between your teeth as you lock eyes with him. After laying down on his bed and making yourself comfortable, you switched on his TV and nestled under the blanket, spreading your legs underneath. "Get under the blanket now," you ordered firmly. With a grin on his face, Rafe swiftly slides under the blanket and settles between your legs. He pulls your panties aside, revealing your wet folds. "Fuck.. you're soaked baby." His tongue darts out, flicking over your clit. He starts to lick and suck on your folds, his hand moving up to grab your hip and hold you in place. As he moaned louder, mirroring your own sounds, his finger slipped inside you, moving in and out while he sucked on your clit. Your moans were getting increasingly louder, your eyes fixed on the TV screen, yet not really paying attention to what was playing. Quickly moving his tongue and curling his fingers inside you, he skillfully targets your g-spot. He can tell you're close to reaching climax. "Let's go, sweetheart." You pull on Rafe's hair beneath the blanket, guiding his face closer to your core as you begin to squirt. "Please stop," you plead desperately. He groans against your pussy while you squirt, his fingers continuing to move in and out of you a few more times, making sure to lick up every last drop. He removes his finger from you, yet his tongue persists in teasing your now sensitive clit. His cock still hard as a rock, one hand of his reaching down to massage himself from outside his pants.

"Fuck me." You whisper and trust Rafe doesn't waste any time pulling his pants down and move up to hover over you, his cock in his hand. He lifts your legs slightly, wrapping them around his hips before entering you with a single deep thrust. "Oh fuck y/n." He groans as his eyes meet yours. Starting to thrust in and out of you. With his mouth slightly open, he breathes heavily as his hips move forcefully against yours. He starts to pick up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of your wetness. His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss while hes genuinely fucking you with everything he has, his thrusts becoming erratic as he gets closer to cumming, "Shit... im gonna-" "Cum for me daddy." You interrupt him, almost begging for it.

His member pulsates within you as you speak, his movements growing more erratic. Gasping, he kisses you deeply, bringing you closer as he ejaculates within you, his member remaining rigid as he eases into a slow rhythm. "Fuck, I needed that.." He whispers.

"Me too.." You pant out after he laid down next to you, both looking up to the ceiling. The guilt building up that you just cheated on Tristan..

[rafey-baby]

vampire!rafe doesn't want to hurt neighbor!reader but he's just so hungry and she just smells so good...

c/w: blood, vampire!rafe feeding on her w out permission, slightly suggestive

wc: 2.9k

happy halloween & kinktober to all who celebrate xx

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

To put it plainly, there has always been something off about her neighbor; a peculiarity in the air surrounding him and an eccentricity in his outlandish aura. She thinks she could count all of their conversations (consisting of a few sparse sentences) with one hand, even though he’s lived in the apartment next to her for almost a year now.   

She remembers their first encounter as clear as day. She’d chirped up a friendly "Hi! Do you need any help?" when she’d noticed an unfamiliar presence carrying heavy boxes, even if he made it seem like they were filled with fluffy feathers with how easily he was lifting them with those beefy arms of his.

However, in response, he’d merely halted his movements and stared down at her as if she was some sort of a folkloric monster before muttering out a cold "Uh, no thanks" followed by him slamming his door closed with the back of his foot.   

After that, their interactions haven’t been anything more than awkward nods of acknowledgment in the elevator or her accidentally bumping into him in the hallways, which was more often than not her fault, with how often she got lost in her daydreams and forgot about the world around her. Each time, he’d mutter out a displeased "Watch where you’re going, yeah?" while taking a notable step back for good measure.   

Despite his apparent distaste for her though, she couldn’t help but find his brooding eyes and grumpy demeanor sort of alluring. And it didn’t help that he was quite easy on the eyes as well. However, since he seemed to hate her guts (the reason unclear to her) she tried to stay out of his way the best she could, not wanting to bother him anymore than she apparently already did by simply existing.   

Therefore, she hesitates a few times before knocking on Rafe’s door to inquire if he’d happen to have any gauze or even bandages. At this point, she’ll take anything because the cut on the skin between her thumb and index finger seems to be deeper than she originally thought; warm maroon dripping down her wrist since the paper towels she’s pressing against the wound aren’t being very helpful.   

She’s not entirely sure how it happened. One second, she was contently humming to the music playing from her earphones and cutting up some sweet potatoes to turn into fries in the oven, and the next, she’s bleeding onto her cutting board. And if that wasn’t bad enough, turns out she doesn’t even own a first-aid kit.   

Normally, she’d ask the kind, elderly woman living behind her other wall for help since she’s always so lovely to her; bringing her hand-baked pies and gracing her with the warmest greetings whenever they cross paths. However, it’s rather late and she doesn’t want to wake her incase she’s already in bed.   

Therefore, her only option is her other neighbor since she doesn’t even know the names of the other people living in the same apartment complex.   

She stands on top of his doormat for a few moments, fleetingly wondering if he’s even home, before the door cracks open and all of a sudden, she’s blinking up at Rafe’s tall frame.  

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you. I know it’s late and all but um, was wondering if you had anything to…patch this up with?” she lifts up her wounded hand in emphasis as she stumbles over her words.   

The glimmering sapphires of his eyes slightly widen at the sight of the tissue soaked through in vermilion as he simply stares. His gaze is awfully similar to their first encounter — like she’s just killed his cat — before seemingly snapping out of the haze he’d lost himself; clearing his throat as if there’s some sort of an itch there.   

“Yeah, uh, come in,” he ushers her in with a tense smile; like he’d rather be doing anything other than inviting her into his home.  

“Gonna see if I can, uh, find something for that…you can wait in the kitchen, yeah?” he says before disappearing into the bathroom.   

And he’s always made her rather nervous, however, right now she feels like a little kitten who’s just stepped into a lion’s den as she wanders over to what she assumes is the kitchen. Fleetingly, she wonders if he prefers to order in or eat out since the countertops and cupboards appear far too clean and empty to be used regularly. As she takes a closer look, even the stove and the oven look brand new; like they’ve never been used before.   

“Wasn’t aware my kitchen was that interesting.”   

She flinches when he’s suddenly behind her. And what he said sounded like a joke, however, when she spins on her heel to face him; his expression is as serious as a statue.   

“Sorry, I just…um, nothing, sorry,” she shakes her head to rid herself of the eerie feeling trickling down her spine; her vivid imagination getting the best of her, as always. He’s probably just a clean freak.   

“Sit,” he gestures towards the chair he’s pulled out for her before she hesitantly obeys; a strange ambience following him when he crouches down in front of her in order to take her hand in between his larger ones.   

“How did this even happen?” he flits his eyes over to hers and she could swear there’s something obscure swimming in the watery ponds, almost like a deep craving for something.   

“Oh, I was just making dinner and…got distracted while holding the knife, I guess,” she explains, embarrassed now that she has to recall the moments before disaster.   

“Clumsy girl,” he scolds her. “Should be more careful, you know?”  

“I know, sorry,” she peeps out.   

“Don’t need to apologize. Mistakes happen, yeah?” he reassures her with an uncharacteristically tender tone that confuses her to no end but before she has the chance to question it, he’s slowly breathing in through his nose; eyes fluttering shut along with his exhale as if trying to calm himself down.   

She blinks, disconcerted. “You, um, you okay?”  

“Yeah, yeah. Jus’ had a...long day,” he mutters out before swallowing.   

“Right…” she drifts off when he peels away the saturated tissue to properly inspect the injury.   

In the process, some of the maroon trickles down to stain his fingers and at that, she notices his entire form tense as he halts his movements; tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip.  

“You sure you’re fine? Do you get like squeamish around blood or? Can do it myself if it makes you uncomfortable,” she suggests cluelessly, not comprehending why his behavior is suddenly even more unsettling than before.   

A dry chuckle tumbles from his throat in response because he’s practically doing everything in his power not to drain her of every last blood cell and she’s concerned for his comfort. What an adorable little thing.   

However, his laughter doesn’t last very long since he can hear the blood flowing in her veins; smell the sweetness of it on her palm and at the end of the day, he only has so much self-control.  

“Nah, I just…” his gaze sticks like glue to the scarlet droplets on his thumb, seemingly contemplating something. Then, to her utmost surprise, he’s bringing it up to his mouth and tucking it past his lips; a low groan rumbling from his throat when her taste melts on his tongue.  

“What are you—” her eyes widen in shock and before she can comprehend what’s happening, he’s bringing her hand closer to his mouth and sinking sharp teeth into the skin of her palm; a guttural moan following his actions.   

And it all happens so quickly, her brain only registering the throbbing pain that follows.   

“Ow, what the hell?” her voice is alarmed as she tries to yank her arm back, unfortunately to no avail since he’s much stronger and doesn’t even notice she’s trying to move; entirely too consumed by the sweet nectar she’s involuntarily providing him with.   

His bite stings; makes her gasp for breath to tolerate the dreadful ache before it turns into something else entirely, something akin to pleasure. Her brows furrow as she tries to grasp onto the nearly obscene sight before her; his eyes flickering shut as he contently hums and grunts around the flesh between his teeth.  

“Shit, why do you taste so good? What the fuck do you eat, huh?” his question is muffled around the wound he’s feasting on; his noises of gratification sending a foreign spark to stir in her guts as they echo around the otherwise quiet apartment.   

“I don’t— I don’t know?” her fuzzy brain is having a hard time understanding what she’s supposed to do in this entirely too strange of a situation. At this point, it feels more like a fever dream than reality.  

“Can’t fucking stop. Shit, I’m sorry, haven’t had a proper meal in ages,” he rasps out as he resumes greedily satiating his sweet tooth with heady moans escaping his tongue.  

“I feel— feel kinda dizzy can you—” she mumbles; vision growing misty as the room begins to spin.   

However, he doesn’t seem to hear her; too lost in satiating his most primal urges as he nuzzles his face even more into her palm.   

“I don’t know if I....” she doesn’t have the strength to finish her sentence before her heavy lids drop closed and she feels her limbs turn lax; thoughts evaporating into thin air when she loses consciousness.   

The last thing her soupy brain picks up is him cursing under his breath before catching her limp body in a steady hold.   

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

All-consuming fatigue causes her eyelids to feel as heavy as the washing machine she had to carry to her apartment when she moved in as she blinks her eyes open; desperately trying to piece together where she is and what the hell happened.   

“Good, good, you’re awake,” an all too familiar drawl forces the memories to overwhelm her mind as she tries to sit up on the couch with softened bones and weakened limbs.   

She can still feel the pain of his sharp teeth piercing through the skin of her palm as she looks down at the piece of gauze wrapped securely around her throbbing left hand.  

“Shit, let me help,” she registers Rafe’s voice before his strong arms are maneuvering her into a seated position; steadying her.   

“There you go,” he rasps out before shoving a frigid glass filled with water into her frail hands. However, when she’s unable to properly hold onto it, he lets out a sigh and brings it closer to the seam of her lips himself.   

“Drink,” he orders with a hint of exasperation; tipping the cup and forcing her to gulp down large amounts of the fresh liquid. And she drinks greedily, not even aware she was this thirsty. All too soon though, he decides she’s had enough and draws the magical elixir away.   

And she’s about to ask for more when the reason why she fainted in the first place finally registers in her puzzled brain.  

“What the hell? Why would you— I thought…are you— you’re a vampire?” she stumbles over her words; the realization feeling surreal as she rapidly blinks up at him.  

“I thought— I thought that was a myth? Vampires exist?” her face scrunches up in mayhem as she examines him from head to toe. However, no clear signs of him being a supernatural creature catch her eye; even the maroon she remembers staining the sides of his mouth has been wiped away.   

“Uh, yeah, it’s a…long story,” he scratches at the back of his head. “But I need you to—”   

“Wait. You didn’t turn me into a vampire, did you?” she frantically asks, tongue subtly trying to inspect whether she has grown fangs over the course of her nap or not.   

“Calm down, it doesn’t work like that, I’d have to—”  

“Oh, can you compel me to forget about this like in the Vampire Diaries?” she cuts him off with rounded eyes.  

“In the what?” his gemstone-eyes are perplexed when he opens a packet of what appears to be oatmeal raisin cookies.  

“It’s such a good show, you haven’t seen it?” she gets momentarily sidetracked.   

“Stop asking stupid questions and eat,” he orders and offers the treat to her as if she’s some kind of a dog; a crease forming between his brows when she refuses to open her mouth.   

“Why aren’t you eating it?” he nearly glares at her, as if she’s a major inconvenience that he wishes would just disappear so he could continue on with whatever it is that vampires do.  

“I hate raisins,” she complains with her face crumpling up in aversion.   

“Don’t really care. Just eat it, shit, do you not wanna feel better?” he grumbles out when she pulls her face away from the delicacy.   

“Well, I wouldn’t need to feel better in the first place if you hadn’t drank like half of the blood in my body,” her tone is displeased, making him roll his eyes.   

“It wasn’t even that much. You’re fine, alright? Just eat this and you’ll feel better, yeah?” he breaks off some of the baked good; hovering it in front of her lips while looking at her expectantly.  

And for a moment, he thinks she’s not going to comply, but then she lets out a weary sigh; reluctantly opening her mouth. Immediately, he pushes the piece in while examining her carefully as if to make sure she’s actually swallowing before feeding her more.   

When she’s finished chewing two more cookies, he finally seems at least somewhat content with her cooperation and rewards her with more water that she eagerly sips on. He fills the cup to the brim once more and she’s actually able to hold it this time around; feeling some of her strength returning. She hates to admit that he was right.   

“How do you feel?” he then murmurs, a faint hue of concern painting over the question as he takes a sip from his own mug. And from the potent, metallic odor she can tell it’s not water.   

“Um…like my neighbor just drained me out of my blood without so much as a warning,” she places the now empty glass on the coffee table and flickers her accusatory eyes over to him.  

He scoffs before walking over to her. “And I apologize for that, alright? But what do you expect me to do when you’re practically shoving your bleeding hand in my face?”  

“So, it’s my fault now? Damn, sorry for not knowing you were a fucking vampire,” she huffs out; not caring that she’s poking the sleeping bear, even if he could quite literally eat her for lunch.   

At that, he lets out a deep sigh; running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “That’s not what I meant, okay? Just can’t fucking…think straight when you smell like that.”   

“Like what?” she sounds almost offended for a second.   

“I dunno, like…like real fucking appetizing.”  

Oh.  

“Right…well— since I feel great now, think I’m just gonna go,” her attempt at standing on her feet fails miserably when she stumbles on wobbly feet. She’s about to topple over to the floor before Rafe’s big arms are steadying her with his hands on her waist.  

“Careful now. Told you, you need more rest, okay?”   

“Think I can rest just fine in my own apartment...” she trails off when she notices he’s not even paying attention to her words anymore, instead his gaze is now fixed on her neck due to their close proximity; eyes starving and teeth digging into his bottom lip to seemingly contain himself.  

“You’re still hungry?” she squeaks out with wide eyes when his fingers dent the skin of her waist as he tightens his grip on her.   

“M’always hungry,” he rasps out, before clearing his throat.   

And she silently curses her caring nature for the fact that she almost feels bad for him. Doesn’t want him to suffer but doesn’t want him to drink her dry either.   

“What do you, um, usually eat?” she asks.  

“Uh, mostly blood bags I steal from hospitals. And, well, humans, but been tryna cut down on that cause it’s not…nice. But blood from a plastic bag s’just not the same as fresh from the vein, you know? Doesn’t really, uh, satisfy the cravings...makes me want more,” he explains with a heady tone.    

“Oh, um…you still wanna drink a little from me?” she has no idea why she’s offering more of her blood to him when she already feels so weak; blames it on those eyes that are near hypnotic when they seem so hopeless for some semblance of relief.   

“Don’t say that shit, already took way too much from you,” he mutters lowly. However, with his eyes still glued to the skin of her neck, he leans closer; letting out a vulgar groan when he inhales. “Don’t know how you’re affecting me so much, usually can control myself better around humans.”  

She shivers when she can feel the tip of his nose grazing against her jugular vein.  

“If I just have a little bit…” and then his soft lips are tickling her skin and making her let out a tiny whimper— something innately erotic about his desperation for her.   

All too soon though, he’s shoving her away from him and forcing her to take ahold of the arm of the couch in order to not lose her balance.   

“No, no, I can’t,” his hands turn into fists. “Need you to leave, now,” he’s nearly panting along with his face wrinkled up in frustration as he practically drags her out the front door; slamming it shut behind her.   

And she can’t do anything expect stand there and blink.   

What on earth just happened? 

[rafesfavgirl]

the palm of your freezing hand — r. cameron

part 1. part 2. this could technically be part 2 or 3, depending on how much of this little series you've read (or if you’re not into reading smut). either way, thank you for coming along for the ride. i hope you like it :)

❝ oh, goddamn my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand ❞

pairing: friend!rafe x pogue!reader

context: it's been three weeks since you found out jj cheated on you, and a week since you hooked up with rafe.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: fwb situationship, mean!jj (just for the sake of the story, we all know he’s BABY), bitchy!kie (again, just for the story—i adore her), jealous!jj, slut shaming, a little bit of angst, a little bit of blood and violence, fluff. rafe being a menace too, lowkey

you sat on a log at a party in the boneyard—one that you let john b and pope convince you to go to (you felt bad for icing them out for almost three weeks now when they weren't the ones who screwed you over)—staring out towards the ocean in a red bikini top and a pair of jean shorts, sipping on some beer that john b had brought over to you in a red cup.

he was now occupied talking to some blonde touron, sitting up in a tree, while pope talked to some other girl by the keg, and jj and kie chilled with a few other pogues, his arm slung around her shoulder.

so much for claiming to love you—he was just on his knees begging you to forgive him last week. and now, he was here with your best friend—former best friend, anyway. the two of them really had no shame.

pulling your phone out of your pocket, you begin to text rafe.

you: please tell me you're on your way.

rafe: miss me already?

you roll your eyes at his response. last weekend, after your break up with jj, you made the somewhat idiotic decision to hook up with rafe at a kook party on figure eight. you're still not exactly sure how it happened, but the sex was good, so you've kinda formed a sort of friendship with him in a way—with benefits, of course.

the three dots appear again, signaling that he was typing something else, and you wait for the message to come through.

rafe: turn around.

you furrow your brow at the text, but do as you're told and turn around, only to find a smiling rafe standing over you—dressed in a ralph lauren, short-sleeve, white collared shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.

"hey pretty girl," he greets you as you stand.

little did you know, jj was watching from afar, his eyes focused on the way you throw your arms around rafe's neck in a hug, while his hands trailed around your waist to press your body against him.

"what the fuck?" jj mutters beside kie, who snaps her head towards him.

"what's up?" she asked.

"what is he doing here?" jj felt heat rise in his chest, his eyes narrowing at you and rafe.

kie furrowed her brows at him in confusion before following his line of sight to you and rafe a good distance away, you playfully pushing against his chest with a giggle.

"shit," kie says. "i didn't see that coming."

"yeah that makes two of us," jj slams his empty cup down on the ground and stands up without another word, beelining straight for you and rafe.

"so this is why you wanted to break up," you hear jj's familiar voice fill your ears, but it wasn't sweet and sarcastic as usual—it was bitter.

you shift your eyes towards him, causing rafe to turn too, to see what or who had just pulled your attention from him.

"excuse me?" you asked.

"rafe cameron, y/n?" he snarled. "seriously? i thought you knew better than that."

"clearly i don't, considering i trusted you," you spat, causing a scowl to fall over his sharp features. "and by the way, we didn't break up because i wanted to be with rafe. we broke up because you cheated on me."

that makes rafe snap his head towards you—he knew that your relationship didn’t end on good terms, but you never really told him why. "he cheated on you?" 

"with kiara."

a scoff mixed with a snicker leaves rafe's mouth as he looks at jj. "you're an even bigger idiot than i thought."

"look, shut the fuck up, man, a'ight?" jj motions a hand at him. "this isn't about you. this is about you." he turns to you again. "you're really slutting yourself up for this asshole?"

"better than slutting myself up for a cheater," you retort. "and in case you haven't noticed jj, we're broken up. what's it to you if i'm hooking up with someone else?"

"and she is, by the way," rafe throws jj a wink and smirk. "you really fucked up. i mean, really fucked up. the way she feels bro? i don’t know how you coul—"

"shut up, man," jj was getting riled up now, a hand coming up to push rafe back, a deep chuckle falling from rafe's lips as he used both his hands to push jj back.

that's enough to push your ex-boyfriend to the edge as he comes at rafe, causing him to trip over a skinny log as both of them tumble onto the sand. the noise from the tussling only pulls attention from everyone else, john b and pope immediately running over to break the two hot-headed blonds apart.

you really had a type, huh?

"what did you do?" kie comes up beside you, along with a few pogues, kooks, and tourons—who had now formed a makeshift half-circle around the scene.

you look at her, more pissed off at her accusation than rafe and jj fighting. "what makes you think i did anything?"

"you usually always do," she says.

you cross your arms and scoff. "you're one to talk."

"and what's that suppose to mean?"

"it means you were supposed to be my best friend, kiara," you tell her. “and not only did you screw our friendship over, but you did it by fucking my boyfriend. no wonder sarah cameron dropped your ass.”

she purses her lips at you, upset by your mentioning of sarah’s name. “don’t act as if this is just all on me,” she argued. “you were the one who weaseled your way in, and stole him from me.”

“stole him?” you asked, taken aback. she was the one who set you up with him in the first place. “you’ve clearly reached different levels of delusional.”

“you think i'm delusional?" she spat, crossing her arms. "you're hooking up with rafe cameron. do you really think you'll get him to fall for a pogue like you?"

before you could even answer, rafe separates the two of you, bumping into you both as jj pushes him back, and you reach out to steady him.

"you think i'm scared of you, man?" jj shouts at him, john b holding him back.

rafe chuckles and wipes at the little bit of blood beside his now busted lip with his thumb. "i think you should be."

"get your fucking boyfriend, y/n!" jj yells, his eyes shifting from rafe to you.

"you got it," you nod at him with a smile, just to piss him off more—rafe wasn't your boyfriend, but he didn't have to know that. "you wanna get out of here?" you tilt your head up at rafe, who turns his head towards you and smiles. 

"lead the way, doll."

you do as he says, giving kie a small smirk as you walk past her and the makeshift crowd that had formed, everyone's eyes on the two of you.

"so… your boyfriend, huh?" rafe swings an arm around you and squeezes you to his side.

"chill, cameron," you laugh, pushing him away from you playfully. "i only said that to piss him off."

"so i'm just a toy to you then, is that what this is?" he asked, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as you both stop by his truck.

"that depends…" you trail off and turn to face him, your back resting against the passenger door of his truck. "am i just a toy to you?"

"i'm not sure yet," he shrugs, honestly. "i wouldn't have just taken a bloody lip and sand stains on my polo for anyone though."

you giggle and bring your thumb up to swipe at the beige-colored stain on his white shirt. "yeah, sorry 'bout that."

"no worries," he shakes his head, his eyes locking with yours. "i can think of one or two ways you could make it up to me."

"oh, is that so?" you kink a brow at him. "because i can tell you right now i don't have a hundred dollars to spare for a brand new ralph lauren polo shirt."

he leans a hand against his truck, beside your head, and closes the distance between you. "and who said that's what i wanted?"

you tilt your head to the side, an amused smile on your face. "then what did you have in mind?"

"let me take you out on date," he says. "a real one."

part 4.

writing rafe being soft for the reader is literally my favorite thing ever.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @immyowndefender @chiaraanatra

[littlelamy]

rafe’s panty obsession

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. rafe cameron didn’t do infatuation—not like this, not this utterly consumed way where the line between obsession and desire blurred until it was just... madness. he had meant to just grab one pair of your panties, a stupid, reckless thrill to satisfy the darker corners of his mind. just one, and he’d be done.

that was five trips ago.

now here he was, sneaking back into your house again, his chest tight and pulse racing. it was the fifth time this week, and rafe couldn’t stop himself. not even a stern talk in the mirror about how insane this was had deterred him. it wasn’t like you didn’t like having him over; you practically glowed whenever he swung by, which only made it worse. you thought he just enjoyed hanging out at your place, enamored by your sweet personality or the way your laugh lit up the room.

and okay, yeah, rafe did like those things. but they weren’t the reason he kept coming back. no, the reason was tucked away in your hamper and drawers, lacy and delicate, scented faintly with your arousal. he was utterly hooked on the thought of you wearing them, of the intimate glimpse they gave into your world. and it wasn’t just about the panties—though, god, they made him lose his mind. it was you, the sweet innocence you exuded, that made his obsession spiral.

if only he knew you weren’t as innocent as you seemed.

you had noticed rafe’s peculiar behavior weeks ago. at first, you brushed it off as just him being rafe—arrogant, charming, always lingering too long in your personal space. but then, you’d caught him red-handed, fumbling with your drawer when he thought you were in the shower. he hadn’t seen you peek around the corner, hadn’t noticed the way your jaw had dropped when he slipped a pair of your panties into his pocket and left like nothing had happened.

it wasn’t disgust you felt, surprisingly. it was pure lust.

instead of confronting him, you decided to watch. you started paying closer attention to his movements when he was over, strategically leaving him alone in your room just to see if he’d do it again. he did. every single time. and you, instead of stopping him, started taking pictures. at first, they were innocent enough—just snapshots of him rummaging around like a guilty little boy. but then, the photos became something else. you began capturing the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the way his jaw clenched when he held your panties to his nose and inhaled like a man starved.

you couldn’t explain why it turned you on, but it did.

now, weeks later, you had a collection of photos hidden in your phone, and the sight of rafe in your room no longer shocked you. tonight, he was particularly bold. you had invited him over for dinner, and he had made some excuse about needing to use the bathroom. you knew better. quietly, you followed him up the stairs, camera ready, as he slipped into your bedroom.

rafe’s hands shook as he opened your drawer. he hated how addicted he had become to this. it was like his brain short-circuited every time he got close to your stuff. he grabbed a pale pink pair this time, the fabric soft and delicate between his fingers. his imagination ran wild—thinking about you wearing them, thinking about peeling them off you.

“you really can’t help yourself, huh?”

rafe froze. his blood ran cold, the pink panties still clutched in his hand as your voice broke the silence. slowly, he turned around, his face flushing a deep crimson when he saw you standing in the doorway, phone in hand, a knowing smirk on your lips.

“y/n,” he stammered, his voice thick with panic. “i—this isn’t—”

“oh, don’t even bother lying,” you interrupted, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you. “i’ve known for weeks, rafe. you’re not exactly subtle.”

his mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. you held up your phone, showing him a picture you’d taken just days ago of him with your lacy panties in his hand, taking a deep inhale of the seat.

“i have a whole collection,” you teased, your smirk growing wider. “you’re not the only one with a little... obsession.”

rafe’s eyes darkened at your words. “what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice low and edged with something dangerous.

you shrugged, moving closer. “i’ve been watching you. taking pictures. at first, i thought it was just funny, you sneaking around like a kid caught stealing candy. but then...” you trailed off, tilting your head as you met his gaze. “then i realized i kind of liked it.”

his breath hitched. “you... like it?”

“maybe,” you said coyly. “but i also like idea of you pleasuring yourself to my panties.”

rafe swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. he felt trapped, exposed, but the way you were looking at him—with a mix of amusement and something far darker—made his blood heat. “so, what now?” he asked, his voice thick with tension. “you gonna tell me to get out? call the cops?”

you laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his stomach flip. “no, rafe. i’m not gonna kick you out. but i think it’s time we stop pretending.”

“pretending?”

“that i’m this innocent little thing you’ve built up in your head,” you said, stepping closer until you were just inches away. “i know what you’ve been doing, and i let you. hell, i wanted you to. but now, i think it’s time you earn what you’ve been sneaking around for.”

rafe’s mouth went dry. “what does that mean?”

you smiled, reaching out to pluck the pink panties from his hand. “it means,” you said, your voice dropping to a whisper, “you don’t have to steal anymore.”

his heart was a drum in his chest, loud and erratic, drowning out the world around him. your words hung in the air, daring him to cross the line he’d been skirting for weeks. your lips curved into a teasing smile, your gaze unwavering as you stepped even closer, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off you.

“y/n,” he murmured, your name barely audible over the pounding in his ears. his hands clenched at his sides, torn between pulling you closer and keeping some semblance of control.

“what’s wrong, rafe?” you asked softly, your voice dripping with challenge. “you were bold enough to sneak into my room. now you’re scared to touch me?”

his restraint snapped. in a swift motion, his hands cupped your face, and his lips crashed against yours. the kiss was messy, heated, and filled with weeks of pent-up frustration. your hands flew to his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as you kissed him back just as fervently. his tongue slid against yours, claiming, searching, as if trying to drink in every bit of you he could.

you moaned softly into his mouth, and rafe swore he saw stars. his hands roamed down, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. the pink panties you’d taken from him fell to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

when you finally broke apart, your breaths mingled in the small space between you. your lips were swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes sparkled with something that made rafe’s knees weak.

“guess you’re not as shy as i thought,” you teased, your voice breathless.

“you drive me insane, y’know that?” he muttered, his forehead pressing against yours. his thumb traced your cheek, softer now, though the fire in his eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“good,” you said, smirking as your fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt. “because i’m not done with you yet.”

rafe’s grin mirrored yours, all sharp edges and wicked intent. “oh, trust me, neither am i.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills

[rafeandonlyrafe]

crash

words: 2k

warnings: car crash, drinking, partying, soft!rafe, descriptions of blood, rafe and sarah actually get along, underage drinking? (i guess sarah but this doesnt fit in with the obx timeline), topper and sarah dating, established relationship, surgery, hospital setting, injuries, fluffy, they say i love you a lot

“you good to drive top?” rafe tosses the keys towards his friend. rafe usually wouldn't trust anyone else with his truck, but he wouldn't drive with even one drink in his system when he has such precious cargo.

“yeah, man.” topper catches the keys one handed with ease, pulling sarah behind him with his free hand.

rafe looks to you, wrapped against his side, steps slightly wobbly, a small giggle escaping your lips as he opens the back door for you.

“why thank you.” you step in with rafes help, immediately flopping down in the seat. 

“gotta buckle up, baby.” rafe may be slightly tipsy as well, but he's not as far gone as you are, having indulged with your girlfriends at the party, including sarah who is clearly the drunkest out of the group as topper has to physically lift her into the passenger seat.

“mkay.” you hum, letting rafe do up your buckle in the middle seat before you collapse against his side, eyes closing instantly as your tiredness sets in.

“did you have fun?” rafe asks as topper gets in, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.

“mhm.” you hum out again, not wanting to actually open your mouth to speak as the truck moves out of its parking spot, topper carefully driving down the road as he squints slightly into the darkness before turning the brights on to illuminate the road more.

“just head to mine, top.” sarah says, reaching over to place her hand on his bicep. “you can spend the night.”

“in the guest bedroom.” rafe adds on. he can't see sarah roll her eyes, but he knows she does.

“shh, young love is cute rafey.” you mumble, rubbing your head against his chest like a cat would snuggle into their owner.

“im like only three years younger than-” sarah can't finish her sentence as topper blares on the horn seconds before another truck rams into the passenger side, sending the truck spinning through the intersection. before you even realize what is happening, you're upside down, then right side up, then upside down again before the truck ends up on its tires once more, now off the side of the road.

“fuck!” topper shouts out, his hands running over his body, checking to see that he’s okay before turning to look to sarah, who is clearly shaken but uninjured. “everyone okay?”

“baby?” rafes arm caged you against his body during the impact, but the rolling dislodged you as the top of the car crunched down.

“shit…” you groan, reaching up to touch your forehead, having smacked it against something in the crash. you pull your hand away to realize that your fingertips are red with blood.

“im bleeding.” you wheeze out, panic suddenly setting in as you try to move before realizing you’re trapped, leg pinned under sarah’s seat which has been pushed in towards you from the impact.

“baby, baby!” rafes voice breaks through your panic as his hands grip at your wrists until you stop your flailing. “stay calm, im getting us out.”

topper is able to kick his door open before rounding the now completely wrecked hood to get sarah out. he looks at the intersection to see the truck that plowed into them now blocking the center of the roadway. 

“i-i can’t get out rafe. my leg is pinned. i-i think its okay though.” you’re not sure if your words are the truth, afterall, your head feels completely fine and judging from the blood you have to wipe away from your eye, its not.

“okay, shit.” tears stream down rafes face as he looks over you, allowing himself a split second of panic before he instantly begins to move in the crumpled truck, tearing at the bottom of his shirt until he’s able to pull off a chunk, moving it to your forehead and pushing against the cut despite your grimace.

“its okay.” rafe assures you softly. “ive got you. you’re okay. you’re okay.” the repeating words are partially for rafe as he reaches with his free hand to under the seat, feeling that your leg isn’t bleeding, just stuck at the ankle by a bar under the seat.

“call 911!” rafe yells, and sarah instantly pulls out her phone from her back pocket, glad it survived the crash.

“fuck-i-” tears form in your eyes as the pain sets in, as you see the panic in rafes face and realize how bad you must look. “im scared.”

“im scared too baby, but its gonna be okay, just stick with me.” rafe can’t help himself, he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek despite the sweat and drops of blood, he needs to reassure you that everything will be alright.

when rafe pulls away from the kiss, his eyes are blown wide, brows raised. “what is it?” you begin to squirm again.

“nothing, i got you.” rafe works to unbuckle his and then your seatbelt as the fabric of his shirt is now dyed completely red with your blood. he doesn’t want to tell you how shockingly cold and clammy your skin felt when he pressed a kiss against it.

“topper!” rafe shouts. “try to move this fucking seat!” rafe can’t just sit still, managing to push at it with one of his legs as topper pries at the seat, the sound of sirens approaching.

“see that, baby?” rafe looks at you, even able to tell in the dim lighting that your face has gone unnaturally pale. “help is coming, okay?”

it’s a fire truck that arrives first. they do a quick assessment of everyone at the scene before helping topper and rafe, who have not given up on moving the seat. they get it to budge just enough for you to pull your leg out with a sigh of relief as the ambulance arrives.

“come here.” rafe feels a pang of pain is side, but he ignores it as he climbs out of the car, pulling you into his arms. “she needs to go first.”

rafe knows eventually they’ll all get taken to the hospital, but you’re his priority.

“the other guys got a broken leg-” a firemen begins to explain to the emts as they lower the gurney. 

“and hes the one that fucking hit us!” rafe shouts. “my girlfriends got a head injury, she’s going first.”

the emt takes one look at you and nods, motioning for rafe to lay you down. the emt instantly takes over, applying more gauze to your forehead but leaving the crumpled bit of rafes shirt there, hoping that it’s clotting underneath.

they raise the gurney up, rafe climbing in the back with you as a second ambulance pulls up, probably to take the other driver.

rafe tries to talk to you as the emt moves around the back of the ambulance, checking the rest of your body, grimacing slightly when she sees your ankle, which is already swelling and turning purple.

the ride and transfer into the hospital is a rush, and despite rafe not wanting to leave your side, you’re taken for further examination while he has to stay behind.

“sir, we should get you checked out too.” a nurse says softly, his voice too calming for rafe, which just causes the anger he’s been holding inside to bubble over.

“not until i know y/n is okay.” he says firmly, walking out of the waiting room before he can say another word or start punching shit and get himself kicked out. rafe moves towards a tree, pummeling his fists into the bark until they’re bloody and bruised. 

with the anger now at a simmering level, rafe walks back into the emergency room entrance, looking for an update on your condition, only grunting his disapproval before slumping into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs.

rafe doesn’t even realize that he’s fallen asleep until he's being shaken awake by topper.

“y/n.” rafe stands suddenly, cursing at himself for falling asleep in the first place, but his body crashed from the adrenaline.

“shes alright. the doctor just updated us.”

rafe walks past topper, noticing sarah sleeping in one of the other waiting room chairs, relieved to see that they're both fine and not admitted.

“room 1007.” topper calls out as rafe moves past the nurses station to find you.

you are still groggy as the medicine works it's way through your system, and the feeling of stitches on your head is an unusual weight against your skin, yet you still smile widely when rafe enters the room.

“im okay.” you confirm instantly as he rushes to the side of your bed.

“god,” rafe places his hand on your cheek, his gaze darting between your eyes and the gash on your forehead, looking a lot less serious now that the bleeding has stopped. “im so sorry baby.”

you shake your head. “i really am fine. this nice nurse was explaining to me that head injuries bleed a lot and always make it seem worse than it is. and my ankle is just bruised and sprained, not even broken.”

“you won't be using that ankle any time soon anyways.” rafe leans forward to press a gentle kiss against your cheek. “you're getting carried everywhere, i hope you know that.”

you laugh before suddenly stopping, watching as rafes face turns pale, a sheen of sweat seeking to suddenly appear over his face.

“rafe?” you watch as he blinks heavily, once, twice, then his eyes slide closed as he drops forward, landing on the bed, body completely slack.

“nurse! nurse! help!”

--

“ma’am, you should be resting in your own bed. you're still a patient here.”

you're well aware you're a patient, moving around the floor in your hospital gown and hauling the iv attached to your arm.

“ill rest when i know my boyfriend is okay.”

“he had internal bleeding and wasn't seen for hours after the crash. he's in surgery but it won't be short, we are being as thorough as possible to make sure he's going to be okay.” the nurse explains to you gently.

“ill go sit.” you say, mostly because you feel like your legs might give out at any moment, and you're tired of hopping around on your one good ankle. “but i will not be resting until i know rafe-”

a bell dings and cuts you off, the nurse rushing off without another word.

“shit.” you groan, just glad she ran off in the opposite direction of where rafe is in surgery. 

you hop back to the waiting room and drop into the seat next to topper.

“im so sorry, y/n.” topper says, apologizing yet again.

“it wasn't your fault, top.” you shake your head. “he hit us out of nowhere, you couldn't have done anything.”

“maybe if id just gone a little slower-” you tune out whatever else topper is saying, stomach churning as you watch in waiting for an update on rafe.

--

“he's awake and asking for you.”

“thank god.” you jump up, cringing when you land on your hurt ankle. 

“im taking you there in a wheelchair whether you like it or not.” the nurse whose been with you all night says. “but ill walk fast.”

you sit on the chair, needing to get to rafe as fast as possible, and you know the nurse understands just how much you need to see him as she rushes down the hallway.

“baby.” rafe is sat in bed, looking so much younger and vulnerable in that moment. “are you okay?”

“me?” you laugh and shake your head, moving to carefully sit on the bed next to him. “you just got out of surgery. you needed a blood transfusion.”

“mmm.” rafe shakes his head. “are you okay?” he asks again.

“yes.” you nod, tears coming to your eyes. “im okay now that you're okay. don't you ever put your health off again just for me.”

you lean forward and press your lips against rafes, kissing him softly even though he can barely manage to move his mouth to meet you.

“i love you.” you tell rafe. “and i don't want to live without you.”

“i love you too baby.” rafes cheeks stretch as he smiles, and your chest flutters with relief as the spark in his eyes comes back.

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[tanjamikaelson]

CAN FRIENDS KISS? | Rafe Cameron x fem!reader |

Summary: A long-time friendship between you and Rafe blurs into something more when he returns to the Outer Banks after months away. As buried feelings and fantasies surface, a party reveals jealousy and desire, leading to a night where boundaries are crossed, and the truth is finally spoken. In a moment of raw passion, both of you realize that being just friends was never enough.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, jealousy.

•°•°•°•°•

I'ma call you, I'ma hit your number

I'ma slow whine and make you wonder

Fantasies about you in my head, yeah

I know that we shouldn't, but

Can friends kiss?

Touch each other like this?

Under cover like this?

Little too close, play a Popcaan song

And my mind is gone like this

Teasin' on you like this

Put it on you like this

Little too close, play a Konshens song

And my mind is gone like this

•°•°•°•°•

It had been months since you last saw Rafe, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, the truth was suffocating—you missed him more than just a friend. You’d kept yourself busy, convincing yourself that it was nothing, but when you found out he was back in the Outer Banks, that facade crumbled. Before you could stop yourself, your shaky hands dialed his number, the ringing amplifying the tension in your chest.

“Hey,” his voice came through the phone, a comforting warmth that wrapped around you like a familiar embrace. It sent a ripple of longing through you, more intense than you expected.

Your voice wavered as you breathed his name, "Rafe." A beat of silence followed, and then, without intending it, the words tumbled out: "I missed you." It wasn’t just a friendly confession—it was heavy, laced with the feelings you had kept hidden. The kind that kept you up at night, replaying moments in your mind like an old film reel.

There was a pause on his end. You could practically hear the confusion in his silence. You had never said it like that before, never let the words carry the weight they did now.

“You missed me?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I was only gone for a few weeks.”

"A few weeks too long," you murmured, your voice quieter, almost lost in your thoughts, picturing his expression, the slight furrow of his brow as if he was trying to figure out what had changed. What he didn’t know, what you hadn’t told him, was how much you had been thinking about him while he was gone. Fantasizing, really. You knew you shouldn’t have been, but you couldn’t stop the thoughts once they started.

Your heart raced as you imagined telling him as if the words were stuck in your throat. Could friends kiss? Could they touch each other the way you wanted to touch him?

“You’re acting different,” Rafe’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Something on your mind?”

You bit your lip. If only he knew.

One memory haunted you, especially now that he was back. You couldn’t get it out of your mind. Your mind drifted back to the last time you saw him. You’d been at a party, music pumping through the air, bodies swaying in rhythm to the beats of Popcaan. That night, you and Rafe danced, teasing each other like always, but something had changed. The way your bodies moved together, the heat that built between you—it had lit a spark inside you that refused to fade. You often wondered what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped.

Fantasies of his touch, the way his hands felt when they lingered a little too long, how his eyes followed you when he thought you weren't looking. It shouldn’t be this way, not when you both knew the unspoken rule of your friendship. But your heart raced at the thought of pushing those boundaries. If you had just leaned in a little more, let him feel how much you wanted him. But you didn’t—at least not then.

•°•°•°•°•

I don't like your new girl, she don't move me

When you talk about her, I get moody

VVS1 icin' out my neck, yeah

I want it to drip, drip on your lips

•°•°•°•°•

A few days later, Rafe invited you to a party at his house. You told yourself you’d go just to see him, just to catch up like old times. But the moment you walked in and saw his hands wrapped around Sofia, something inside you twisted painfully. She was new. A stranger in your world, someone who didn't belong.

He noticed you almost immediately, a smile spreading across his face as he waved you over.

You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as you walked over to him. “Hey Y/N, this is Sofia.” He introduced her casually as if it didn’t mean anything. But it meant everything. Your mood plummeted, jealousy clawing at your chest as you watched them stand together.

Sofia smiled sweetly, but you barely heard what she said, your attention fixated on Rafe. You reached up, touching the VVS1 diamond necklace that adored your neck. The diamonds sparkled under the dim lights of the party, catching his attention. You wanted him to notice. You wanted him to see you, not her.

You imagine the cool metal dripping onto his lips, erasing any trace of her. A bold fantasy, maybe, but it was all you could think about.

“I’ll catch you later,” You muttered, making an excuse to walk away before the bitterness in your voice betrayed you.

Deep down, you knew you shouldn’t have to compete with her. But seeing them together hurt more than you could bear. And you weren't the type to sit back and watch something slip through your fingers.

•°•°•°•°•

Come party, come touch my body

I'm a busybody, tick, tick, tick, tick

Come find me, come get behind me

•°•°•°•°•

You made your way to the dance floor in an attempt to distract yourself.

Your body moved instinctively, swaying to the pulsing rhythm, trying to drown out the image of Rafe and Sofia together. The alcohol was doing its job, dulling the sharp ache in your chest, blurring the edges of your jealousy. You let yourself sink into the music, pressing against faceless strangers, their presence offering a temporary distraction. Yet no matter how hard you tried to lose yourself in the crowd, you could feel it—his eyes on you, burning through the haze.

You didn’t need to look. The weight of Rafe’s gaze from across the room was undeniable, igniting a fire beneath your skin that no one else in that room could extinguish. When you finally glanced over, your eyes locked with his, and in that instant, everything else faded away. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like watching you with someone else, knowing that you were slipping through his fingers, teasing someone else with the same fire you had once reserved for him.

For a heartbeat, the world stopped. The thrum of the music, the blur of people moving around you—none of it mattered. It was just you and him, staring across the distance, the unspoken tension that had always simmered between you now bubbling to the surface. A slow, deliberate smile played on your lips. If he wanted to play this game, then so be it. You raised a single finger, curling it toward you in a silent dare. Come get me.

The guy you had been dancing with protested as you slipped away, but his words didn’t even register. Your mind was already fixated on one thing—Rafe. You needed him. His presence pulled you in like a magnetic force, and no one else in that room could compete. You crossed the space between you in a few steps, your heart pounding, and when you reached him, you leaned in close, your lips just barely brushing his ear as you whispered, “Come touch my body.”

It wasn’t a request; it was a challenge.

For a second, he hesitated, the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes almost making you question everything. But then, his hands found your waist, strong and possessive, pulling your back flush against his front. The second his skin touched yours, it was as though the air crackled with electricity, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. He was close, too close, and yet not close enough. His breath was warm against your neck, sending shivers down your spine and you felt your pulse quicken as he spun you around to face him, the air between you thick with tension.

The crowd disappeared. The world was reduced to the heat between the two of you, the rhythm of the music aligning with the rhythm of your hearts. This wasn’t how friends looked at each other. This wasn’t how friends touched. The space between you was thick with unsaid words, with unspoken desire, and you were done pretending. When the music slowed, so did you, your body brushing deliberately against his, your movements slow, teasing.

The feel of him so close, the heat of his body pressed against yours, was intoxicating. Every inch of you burned with a desire you could no longer suppress. Your hips swayed in time with the music, deliberately pressing against him, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist. The intensity of his gaze made you feel like the only person in the room. It was maddening, this pull you had toward him, the way you craved his touch like it was the only thing that could sate the need that had been building inside you for far too long.

“Wanna get out of here?” you whispered, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, your voice breathless. It wasn’t just a question—it was an invitation. One you knew he wouldn’t refuse.

•°•°•°•°•

Go lock the door

Fall in love with me, I'm bored

We both know I'm yours

I can't do it anymore

•°•°•°•°•

His response was immediate, his hand sliding into yours as he led you through the crowd, away from the noise, away from Sofia. He pushed open a door to a quieter space, a room tucked away from the chaos of the party. The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly, it was just the two of you, along with the tension that had been building for months.

Your heart raced, each breath coming quicker as you stood there, staring at him, the weight of everything unsaid between you heavy in the air. You knew this was the moment that would change everything.

“Lock the door,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

The anticipation was electric, a current of excitement buzzing beneath your skin as he crossed the room, locking the door with a final click that sent a shiver down your spine.

The silence between you stretched for a moment, both of you knowing what was about to happen. There was no turning back now, no going back to how things were before. The friendship you had clung to was a façade, one that had already started to crumble.

“I can’t do this anymore, Rafe,” you confessed, stepping closer. “I can’t pretend we’re just friends.”

The words hung heavy in the air, the final admission that shattered whatever boundaries had remained between you. His eyes darkened, his breath catching as the reality of what you said hit him. You were both teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something that once crossed, couldn’t be undone.

“I didn’t like seeing you out there,” he finally said, his voice low, rough around the edges with an emotion he couldn’t hide. “With those guys.”

A teasing smile tugged at your lips, but your voice was soft, full of a truth that neither of you could deny. “We both know I’m yours.”

You could see the conflict in his eyes, the hesitation that flickered there for just a moment. But then, it was gone, replaced by the same burning need that mirrored your own.

•°•°•°•°•

This blue chiffon

Off, off, off, need it gone

More Radikon

And it goes on and on

•°•°•°•°•

Your fingers trembled as they toyed with the soft chiffon of your dress, the delicate blue fabric slipping from your shoulders with ease. The silky material cascaded down your body, pooling at your feet like water, leaving you standing exposed and vulnerable in nothing but lace underwear. The cool air of the room kissed your bare skin, a stark contrast to the fevered heat pulsing between you two. But at that moment, none of it mattered. You didn’t care about the chill, didn’t care about anything except the urgent need building inside you—craving him, needing him.

Rafe’s gaze was locked on you, his eyes darkened with desire, his breath shallow and uneven as he took in the sight of you. For a heartbeat, he seemed to freeze, as if the intensity of the moment was too much to fully comprehend. But then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he closed the distance between you. His hands found your skin, gliding across it like they’d been aching for this moment forever, tracing paths of fire and wanting that made your whole body shiver.

Time seemed to blur as his hands wandered through your hair, along the curve of your spine, as though memorizing every inch of you. The air between you thickened, heavy with the weight of months of unresolved tension, as though the very room could feel the gravity of what was happening. His lips hovered near yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’re sure?” His voice was rough, hesitant, though his need was palpable.

You answered him with a kiss, your lips pressing against his, soft at first, but quickly deepening as the tension that had been building for months finally exploded.

He kissed you back, harder, his hands tightened in your hair as you pulled at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours, to erase the space between you.

In a blur of hurried, feverish movements, clothes were discarded carelessly, forgotten. The world outside ceased to exist. The only sound in the room was your mingled breaths, ragged and uneven, as you both succumbed to the intensity of what you had been holding back. He was on top of you, his lips trailing fire down your neck, leaving you gasping beneath him.

Your hand slid between your bodies, fingers curling around his hard length, and the sharp intake of his breath told you everything you needed to know. He had imagined this too, had craved it as desperately as you had. The need between you was raw, primal. You stroked him slowly, teasingly, until his grip on your arm tightened, a silent plea. He needed to be inside of you.

He teased your entrance, the head of him brushing against your warmth, making your body arch in anticipation. Then, with agonizing slowness, he pushed inside, and you both moaned as he filled you completely, his body melting into yours in a way that felt so natural, so right. It was everything you had imagined, only more—more intense, more overwhelming, more perfect.

He began to move, his hips thrusting in and out, setting a rhythm that matched the pulse of your own heartbeat. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies coming together, the slap of skin against skin, your moans, and his groans blending in a symphony of desire.

“Does it feel good?” Rafe whispered, his voice rough, his lips brushing your ear as his pace quickened.

You couldn’t form words, only moan in response, your mind too lost in the sensation to do anything but feel. He slowed his movements, pulling almost all the way out, demanding, “Answer me.”

“Yes, Rafe,” you managed to gasp, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It feels so good.”

His hand gripped your hip harder as he thrust back into you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is this how you imagined it?”

You moaned again, louder this time, as he pushed deeper, his every motion drawing you closer to the edge. “It’s… it’s better,” you whispered. “So much better.”

A low growl escaped his throat as he sped up his movements, clearly pleased by your answer. He pulled back before slamming into you again, hard and fast, causing you to bite down on your lip until you tasted the faint copper of blood. He was relentless, each thrust more powerful than the last.

“Your pussy is even tighter than I imagined,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. His words only fueled the fire between you as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, needing him to fill you as completely as possible. With each thrust, his pubic bone brushed against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body.

You felt the familiar knot in your lower abdomen tightening, the heat in your core building with every movement. Your nails dug into his back as the tension inside you reached its breaking point. “I’m close,” you moaned, the words barely audible.

“Cum for me,” Rafe growled into your ear, his voice dark and commanding. “I want to feel you.”

And that was all it took. The world around you exploded in white-hot pleasure, your body convulsing beneath him as your orgasm tore through you. The intensity was like nothing you had ever experienced, your entire being shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you, again and again.

You tightened around him, your muscles gripping him with every pulse, and Rafe let out a deep groan as he reached his own climax. You felt him release inside of you, filling you completely as you both came undone together, your bodies moving in perfect sync as you rode out the last moments of bliss.

For a long time, neither of you moved, both caught in the aftershocks of what had just happened. The world outside still didn’t matter. All that mattered was the warmth of his body against yours, the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing as you both came down from the high, lost in each other’s arms.

There was no going back, but maybe, neither of you wanted to. You had always been each other's, even before either of you realized it. And now, as you lay tangled together, hearts racing, you knew this was only the beginning.

[sleepyjuice]

. ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆ ୨୧ rafe and overstimulation ୨୧ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆

rafe who makes it his mission to give you as many orgasms as he possibly can until you’re literally on the verge of passing out because he is a ‘proactive type of person’ who can step up and do things that no one else can. it not only fuels his ego but it fills that part of him that needs to prove that he can do it all. and that’s something about him that is present in all aspects of his life. it’s no different in the bedroom.

your legs are quite literally trembling, your clit is beyond sensitive to where it almost hurts to touch it and you swear you’re seeing stars after orgasm number 7 of the night. “rafe, i don’t think i can anymore, ‘s too much.” you practically slurred, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead as you looked up at your boyfriend who was still lazily pumping his cock into your overstimulated pussy. it still felt good, but each orgasm that came was more powerful than the last and at this point you weren’t sure if you would be able to stand by tomorrow.

“shh, hey, i got you, just gimme one more, kay? you’re doing so good pretty girl.” he cooed in your ear, his voice so soft in contrast to his actions throughout the night. giving in to him, you nodded, feeling his thrusts speed up while his thumb found your sensitive clit again, making you hiss as the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain coated your nerves in an icy and fiery mix. the sounds that left your lips were almost inaudible, and it didn’t take long for your stomach to tighten once again, feeling orgasm number 8 on the brink of exploding out of you.

“oh god— gonna, ‘m gonna—“ you whimpered, reaching up with weak arms to wrap them around rafe’s sweaty neck. “i know, baby, let go for me, you got it.” he grunted, feeling his balls tighten and his cock twitch from its spot between your fluttering walls.

he quickened his movements on your clit, and that was all it took for you to come undone, your pussy clenching so tightly around rafe’s cock that it pushed him out of you and you squirted all over him, coating his already wet cock and sweaty abs. you cried out loudly as your release gushed out of you and rafe watched in awe, quickly grabbing his cock and pumping it as he released all over your stomach, loud and drawn out curses leaving his lips. “fucking christ, oh fuckkk.” he slurred as he came down from his own high, taking in the sight of your now limp body, perfectly fucked and coated in his cum.

“jesus, baby, ya pushed me out,” rafe panted and chuckled softly before leaning down to gingerly kiss your lips. “it’s okay, all done now. you did so good for me.” he praised you sweetly, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face. you were seconds away from sleep, but you felt rafe’s strong arms gently lift your body and carry you into the bathroom where he would make sure you got nice and cleaned up before you would sleep for a minimum of ten hours. you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as he sat you down on the toilet, knowing damn well that next time he was going to try for 9. god help your poor pussy.

[itneverendshere]

hii i love your writing !! so i saw your comment on said it a million times, only stay with you one more night where you said that rafe is catching feelings only to fuck it up all over when he ignores her in public and i was wondering if you could write a second part where that happens ?

hiiii! thank you sm for the compliment and for the request 🫂 Hope you enjoy ❤️

been busy digging out her grave - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

working at lila’s restaurant was something you usually tried to avoid, but since she was short-staffed today and needed your help, you figured why not? it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. plus, you owed her a favor. so, there you were, tying your apron on in front of the mirror in the back, trying to pep talk yourself into surviving a day dealing with kooks and tourists.

the air inside always smelt of fried food and coffee, the kind that clung to your clothes no matter how many showers you’d take. you slid out from the back, letting the swing door creak behind you as you moved to the counter, mentally preparing yourself to smile at whatever entitled ass came through the door.

it wasn’t until about halfway through your shift, wiping down the counter and refilling coffee cups, that you noticed them. and by them, you mean him. rafe.

you stopped dead in your tracks for a second, the plates hot in your hands. your breath caught in your throat like you’d swallowed an entire lemon. he strolled in with his pack of kook friends like they owned the place—probably felt like they did too. topper, kelce, and a couple of girls whose names you couldn’t be bothered to remember followed him, laughing loudly, taking up space in that obnoxious way only people like them could.

he didn’t even glance in your direction as they settled into one of the corner booths. not even a look of recognition, but you’d told him you were working here for the day.

just last night, he had you pinned against his bed again, telling you, again, how much he wanted you to stay, whispering that shit in your ear.

now? he acted like you were invisible. un-fucking-believable. one minute he was texting you at 2 a.m., asking you to come over, and the next, he was pretending like you didn’t exist. all because he didn’t want his perfect little kook world knowing he was messing around with a pogue. and that was okay before. until he started asking you to stay, and you did.

apparently, you were a fucking idiot because here you were, pissed off that he couldn’t even look you in the eye.

you grabbed the menus, biting back the urge to roll your eyes, and walked over to their table. “here are your menus,” you said flatly, shoving one in each of their faces without the fake cheer you’d reserved for the tourists.

the girls barely acknowledged you, too busy giggling at something topper said. kelce glanced up briefly, offering a half-assed smirk, while rafe kept his eyes locked on the table, fingers playing with the edge of his napkin like he hadn’t spent the last few nights wrapped up in you.

you caught one of the girls whispering something under her breath. “didn’t know they let just anyone work here.”

her name was sloan or something equally forgettable, always draped on topper’s arm like a chanel bag. she didn’t know you, but she knew enough about you to judge. she was wearing sunglasses indoors, for fuck’s sake. the other girl snorted, and you felt your fingers tighten around the pen.

breathe. 

you had half a mind to snap back. if you were outside, on the street or at a party, you would’ve ripped into them without hesitation. you’d read them for filth in a way they wouldn’t forget. but here? in the middle of the restaurant? lila didn’t need you starting shit, and you didn’t need to lose a good payment over some entitled brats.

rafe said nothing. just sat there, tapping his fingers on the table as if you weren’t even standing right there.

you forced a smile. "you guys ready to order?"

and there it was.

he finally looked at you, but it wasn’t how you wanted him to. his eyes slid over you like you were a stranger — not like the girl he’d kissed breathless hours ago, or the one he had been whispering 'stay' to. he looked at you like you were just…some waitress. 

“coffee. black.” his tone was curt, clipped, like he couldn’t stand to speak to you.

you fought the urge to throw the fucking pot at his head.

“coming right up,” you chirped, giving them your best fake grin before spinning away and stalking back to the counter.

you busied yourself with the coffee, pouring it so forcefully you nearly overflowed the cup. unreal. he had the nerve to sit here, in your space, with his little kook posse, pretending like he wasn’t the same guy begging you to stay wrapped up in his sheets. and for what? to keep up his dumb little façade?

you used to be able to ignore it, pretend it didn’t matter because you didn’t care. you were just having fun, right? it was never supposed to be more than that. except, somewhere along the line, it did become more. he’d made it more, pulling you in deeper with every touch, every late-night call. and now, standing here in this sticky-ass diner, staring at his stupid, perfect face as he chatted up some girl who probably didn’t even know your name? it made you want to set the entire place on fire while they were still inside.

you slammed the coffee cup down a little harder than necessary when you returned to their table. “anything else?” you asked sweetly, practically daring him to say something. but of course, he didn’t. just took the cup without even looking at you. typical.

“uh, yeah, can we get some pancakes?” kelce piped up, completely oblivious to the tension radiating off you. “and bacon. like, extra crispy?”

“sure,” you bit out, scribbling it down before turning away. you made your way back behind the counter, slamming the order slip onto the kitchen window with a little more force than needed.

“everything okay, sweetheart?” lila, the owner, called from the back. she was probably picking up on your mood from the way you were practically shaking in irritation. “you look like you’re about to spit in someone’s food.”

you glanced back at the corner booth where rafe sat, laughing now at something topper said. “nope,” you lied through gritted teeth. “just having a great time.”

“mm-hmm,” lila hummed, giving you a skeptical look before disappearing into the back.

you busied yourself by wiping down the counter—again. anything to keep yourself from glaring over there and blowing your cover. because he wasn’t worth it, right? he wasn’t worth losing your cool over in front of a bunch of stuck-up kooks. he was just some guy.

except, some guy didn’t have you falling asleep in his arms one night, then acting like you were nothing the next. ugh. you clenched the rag tighter, scrubbing hard at a nonexistent stain on the counter, gritting your teeth as his laugh rang out again. 

he knew exactly what he was doing. sitting there, ignoring you, acting like you didn’t matter—like you hadn’t been sprawled out on his bed while he kissed his name into your skin.

“girl, you’re gonna break the counter.”

the sound of a familiar voice snapped you out of your spiraling.

you looked up to see your friend phoebe leaning against the entrance, one eyebrow raised. she must’ve popped in on her break or something. great timing. you shot her a look.

“don’t even start,” you muttered, tossing the rag down with a little too much force.

she peeked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes, a scoff escaping her lips. “oh, them,” she said, voice dripping with disdain. “what, rafe can’t keep it in his pants for a whole day?”

“he can’t keep his ego in check.” you crossed your arms, eyes moving over to the corner before you could stop yourself. he still wasn’t looking at you. the way he leaned back in the booth, one arm slung over the backrest, talking to the girl next to him—like he didn’t have a care in the world. like you didn’t exist.

phoebe followed your gaze, her expression turning incredulous. “are you serious right now?” she asked, lowering her voice. “what happened to just hooking up for fun? ‘don’t care what he does when ’m not around,’” she mocked lightly, using your own words against you.

“yeah, well, that was before he started acting like a complete dick,” you shot back, cheeks flushing.

“started?” she snorted, “he’s always been a dick. so have you. you gonna be okay, or am i about to see you dump coffee in his lap?”

the thought was tempting. really tempting. but you forced yourself to shake your head. “’m fine. he’s just… being rafe.” you hated how flat the words sounded. like an excuse. like you were giving him a free pass to treat you like this.

phoebe didn’t look convinced. “uh-huh. well, if you need a distraction, ’m here. want me to spill something on topper’s head? just say the word.”

god, you needed her right now. “as tempting as that sounds, lila would probably kill me. then i’d really owe her more than a shift.”

she shrugged. “worth it. but fine, i’ll behave.” she straightened, sending you a knowing look. “but seriously, babe. don’t let him get to you. rafe cameron’s just a bored little rich boy playing games.”

you knew she was right. of course she was right. but that didn’t stop that feeling from creeping up in your chest. like you’d expected better, even though you knew you shouldn’t have. because this was still rafe. and rafe was never going to be anything but a complication.

“i just…thought maybe…” you trailed off, words sticking in your throat. thought maybe what? that he’d change? that he’d stop being a total asshole just because you were starting to want more?

“yeah, well, stop thinking,” phoebe said bluntly. “he’s not worth it and he’s sucking the personality out of’ya.”

you swallowed hard, nodding. she was right. he wasn’t. and you needed to remember that. but just as you were about to say something, movement caught your eye.

rafe was standing now, making his way to the counter, his long stride unhurried as if he had all the time in the world. 

phoebe stiffened beside you, “you want me to stay?”

“no.” you forced the word out, squaring your shoulders. “i got this.”

“okay.” she gave you one last look before slipping out the door, leaving you alone behind the counter just as rafe stopped in front of you. he stood there, all six feet of arrogance staring down at you with that expression that made your skin crawl.

“can i help you?” you asked, voice dripping with forced politeness. you met his eyes, refusing to back down, even as your heart hammered against your ribs.

he moved, leaning forward just enough to close some of the distance between you. “need the bill,” he said flatly, like he wasn’t currently tearing your already frayed nerves to shreds.

that’s it? the bill?

you’re just the waitress now. wow. this was rafe. rafe, who couldn’t even look at you, who couldn’t acknowledge what the hell was happening between you beyond those late-night calls and tangled sheets.

“of course,” you said sweetly, forcing a smile even though you wanted to scream. “i’ll be right back.” you turned away without another word, fighting the urge to hurl the fucking notepad at his head. you busied yourself at the register, punching in numbers with way more strength than necessary, imagining it was his face.

once you were done, you looked up to see his back was to you as he fished out his wallet, sliding his card into the reader. you kept your face neutral, biting back the million things you wanted to scream at him. the receipt printed out, and he leaned down, scribbling something quickly before straightening up.

and just as you thought he’d turn and leave like nothing had happened; he did something that made you freeze in place. he dropped a couple of crisp bills onto the counter—more than a couple, actually—and then slid the check over to your side without a word.

what the hell?

you blinked, staring at the pile of cash. that was way more than the standard 20%. fuck, it was enough to cover your rent for the next month, let alone one meal’s worth of shitty coffee and bacon. 

“what the fuck is this, country club?” you blurted out. he stilled, eyes snapping up to yours, that mask of indifference slipping just the tiniest bit. “what, trying to buy me off now? think i’ll just smile and say ‘thank you, sir’ because you threw a couple hundred my way?”

“stop,” he muttered, eyes darting around like he was worried someone might hear. “it’s just—”

“no, you don’t get to ‘just’ me,” you hissed over the counter, “you don’t get to pull this shit like you’re being generous.” you shoved the bills back toward him, nostrils flaring. “take your fucking money. i don’t want it.”

but he didn’t move. just stood there, jaw clenched, blue eyes boring into yours. “it’s not—” he cut himself off, scrubbing a hand down his face, looking almost frustrated. “it’s not like that. ’m just trying to—”

“trying to what?” you shot back, “make yourself feel better? or make me shut up and go along with this bullshit like a good little pogue?” the last word dripped with contempt.

he flinched, the reaction so quick you almost missed it. almost. “’m just giving you a tip. it’s what you want, right?” his tone turned biting, “for your work, I mean.”

your mouth dropped open, stunned. “wow. you’re such an asshole, you know that?” you shoved the wad of cash back at him with a force that sent the bills scattering across the counter. “keep it. use it to buy yourself some decency, because clearly, you’re running low.”

his eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t try to pick up the money. just stood there, jaw ticking, like he couldn’t decide whether to fight back or walk away. it made you want to scream. you wanted to claw at that cold, emotionless shell of his until something—anything—broke through.

“you’re overreacting,” he muttered. and that was it. just those three stupid, dismissive words.

overreacting? after everything?

“get out,” you said flatly, hands shaking. “get the hell out.”

without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out of the restaurant, leaving the crumpled bills scattered across the counter like the mess of your emotions. the door swung shut behind him, the bell chiming softly. you stood there, chest heaving, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack your chest right open. and for a second, you almost reached out, almost scooped up the cash just to throw it at his retreating back. but you didn’t.

instead, you swiped the bills off the counter, crumpling them up into a tight fist and then, with a furious exhale, you chucked the whole wad into the trash can.

because if rafe thought he could buy your silence, your compliance, you, with a handful of cash, then he didn’t know a fucking thing about you at all.