#rafe x bimbo reader

[simpforboys]

Introducing older!dilf!husband!Rafe x bimbo!mistress!reader

➳❥ In which 34-year-old CEO Rafe Cameron met bimbo!reader at some company party a year ago, instantly attracted to each other despite the white-gold wedding band on his finger

➳❥ Even though Rafe has a wife, a six-year-old son, and a four-year-old daughter back at home. But Rafe's marriage was dead. The only reason he and his wife got married was because they found out she was pregnant with their son.

➳❥ He couldn't really resist the younger, sweet, air-headed girl with pretty tits and thighs that was giggling at everything he was saying

➳❥ Which ultimately led to bimbo!reader taking him back to her shitty little apartment, spending the night tangled up in her pretty pink bedsheets

➳❥ Throughout their affair, Rafe started funding more and more of bimbo!mistress!reader's life. He moved her out of her shitty apartment and into a luxury place, because he couldn't let his sweet baby live somewhere dangerous

➳❥ And the longer they keep their secret, the more and more in love bimbo!mistress!reader becomes with Rafe, and the harder it gets for Rafe to resist the urge to leave his wife.

oneshots

blurbs

[filthyrafe]

BRATTY!BIMBO!READER

— ʚɞ rafes bratty, spoiled, naive & stupid girlfriend who loves pink

— ʚɞ only wears expensive stuff, preferably juicy couture and dior

— ʚɞ always wears her “miss dior” perfume

— ʚɞ has random playboy magazines laying around in her room

— ʚɞ has a playboy bunny belly piercing which she needs to show off to everyone before she dies.

— ʚɞ doesn’t know what seven times two is…

— ʚɞ only thing that matters is that she has a phat ass & big boobs :)

credits to @rafesheaven layout—typa thing <3

[cameronsbabydoll]

spoiled kook reader is everything rafe wants: soft, naive, and effortlessly pretty, with that clueless, wide-eyed charm that makes him feel needed and in control. she’s not dumb, but she’s oblivious to danger, which fuels his overprotectiveness. rafe gets frustrated when she doesn’t take things seriously—like when she giggles at something he’s mad about or brushes off red flags because she’s too caught up in her own little world.

but at the same time, rafe loves it. he loves that she needs him to make decisions, loves that she’s so wrapped up in her pink-tinted bubble that she doesn’t see how crazy he is about her. she’s the kind of girl who pouts when she doesn’t get her way, who spends hours doing her hair just to lounge by the pool, who buys expensive things without thinking about the price. and rafe? he enables it. always tells her she doesn’t have to worry about anything—that’s his job.

the way he grips her jaw and forces her to listen when she gets too lost in her own head? the way he growls out, “pay attention when I’m talkin’ to you, princess,” because she’s too busy twirling her hair and admiring her manicure?

and can you imagine when rafe brings her around his friends? she’s completely out of place in their conversations, sitting pretty in his lap with her pink manicured fingers wrapped around a vodka cran, her lips glossy and slightly parted because she’s only half-listening. rafe is of course deep in conversation about something serious—money, business, or maybe even something dumb like the stock market or sports —and she just blinks up at him, twirling a strand of her perfectly curled hair.

“rafey, what does offshore mean?” she asks, tilting her head, genuinely clueless while the guys snicker.

kelce will mutter something like, “god, she’s adorable,” and topper will laugh and say, “you keep her around for the looks, huh, rafe?”

and rafe? he hates when they talk about her like that, like she’s just some dumb, pretty accessory. his grip on her thigh tightens, fingers digging into her soft skin as he glares at his friends. “shut the fuck up.”

but she doesn’t even realize what’s happening. she’s just giggling, clinking her nails against her drink. “ugh why are you squeezing so hard, rafey? gonna leave bruises,” she pouts, not even realizing that’s exactly what he wants.

and when another guy—maybe some no-name Kook douche—tries to flirt with her, assuming she’s too airheaded to notice? rafe will lose his shit. because sure, she may be ditzy, but she’s his.

“she is not interested,” rafe snaps before she can even process what’s happening, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

but instead of understanding, she just blinks up at him, wide-eyed and confused. “omg wait, was he flirting?”

rafe clenches his jaw, barely containing his frustration. because of course she didn’t. she’s far too sweet, too oblivious. and it drives him crazy.

and later, when they’re alone, he makes sure she knows who she belongs to. “you don’t even get it, do you?” he mutters, pressing her against the nearest surface. “y-you walk around lookin’ like that, talkin’ like that, and you don’t even realize what you do to me.”

and she just blinks up at him, chewing on her glossy bottom lip. “…like what?”

and rafe just groans, dragging a hand down his face. Because he loves her, but she’s gonna be the death of him.

[222col]

bimbo!reader x rafe cameron

summary: rafe's fresh out of jail, and needs to find a girl to convince ward he's been with her, not locked up for the week

cw .ᐟ hints at nsfw, kidnapping

꒰ notes ꒱ based on the film buffalo '66 (1998)

pulling your little pink duffle up over your shoulder, pink tights and sheer skirt still pristine even after the hour of dance class. waving goodbye to your friends before walking down the opposite hallway. god, how you wished you’d just followed them.

“don’t fuckin’ scream.”

you would if his calloused hand wasn't gripping your cheeks so tight, muffled whimpers were all that fell through the gaps. the strangers hands grabbing and groping at your body, pulling your back flush against his chest. walking backwards out the dance studio, with you in his grip.

eyes already welling up, feet kicking as he drags you out the back door. your lipstick smudging underneath his hand, fingers surely bruising your jaw with his tight grip.

“gonna move my hand, and y’gonna be fuckin’ quiet, ‘kay?” the stranger mumbles into your ear, lips ghosting over your skin.

body slammed up against the car, meeting the face of him. pretty eyes widened as you reluctantly nod your head. he starts to slowly remove his hand from your mouth and—

“help! help me! please, help—“

his hand clamps back down over your mouth, slamming your body back against the car with force. “the fuck did i just say?”

he fumbles with the keys in his pocket, before opening the back door and pushing your body inside. locking you in immediately, he wasn’t taking any chances.

mutters of complaint under his breath as he walks around to the drivers side, sliding into his seat as his eyes lock on you through the rear view mirror.

“don’t make me hurt you, no one can hear you from inside the car, so keep that pretty mouth shut.”

rafe was fresh out of jail, finally had to pay for one of his crimes. not that he was in there long, one visit from his lawyer and he was out the place. made the fucker swear ward was to hear nothing of this. rafe was meant to be proving he could step up, be the man he was meant to be.

which is how he found himself with some pretty airhead in the back seat. he’d told ward a little white lie, to avoid the whole jail situation. told his dad he was away with his girlfriend. what girlfriend he asked. yeah, good fuckin’ question.

that’s where you come in.

“look, all you gotta do is this one thing for me and i’ll let you go,” rafe mumbles, eyes darting between the road and the mirror as he drives. aw, you’re still trying to unlock the door. poor girl. “you just gotta pretend to my girlfriend, just for a couple hours.”

now that, that got your attention. slumping back to the middle seat, looking to him through the mirror. head tilted, suddenly… docile.

“your girlfriend?” you murmur, fiddling with a strand of your hair. “you kidnapped me, to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

eyes rolling to the back of his head, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “didn’t fuckin’ kidnap you,” kidnapped, borrowed, same thing. “you just gotta act the part for couple hours for my family, then i’ll let you go.”

it wasn’t like you just forgot the way he snatched you up, didn’t forget the feeling of his hands on your body, but for some reason, you were willing to hear him out. not that you had much choice.

“soooo,” you murmur, face softening as you speak. “what’s your name?”

why were you suddenly so calm? it was freaking him out. did he manage to pick up a cute little psychopath?

“rafe.” he mumbles, eyes locked on yours through the mirror.

climbing into the front, slumping down into the seat next to him. he could lie and say he wasn’t watching the way your chest bulged over your top as you did, but that be the furthest thing from the truth.

he took his time looking over your features as you sat next to him, the glitter on your eyes, how your hair fell on your shoulders. at least he managed to pick a pretty one.

“what’s your family like?” you murmur softly, almost batting your lashes over to him. “don’t worry about it.” rafe responds, voice gruff, overcompensating for the newfound closeness between you two.

“well, how am i meant to be your girlfriend if i don’t know?” you huff, arms folded over your chest. jesus, you were temperamental.

“oh my god,” he mutters, shaking his head, knuckles growing white from his grip on the wheel. “they’re rich, my little sister will probably talk your ear off, my step-mom’s a bitch and my dad, well, my dad’s my dad.” right, helpful.

the car pulls up to tannyhill, eyes widening slightly at the size of the place. rafe puts in the car in park, and turns his body to face you. “do not fuck this up for me, i have no problem making you disappear.”

you weren’t sure if it was an empty threat or not, but you did not wanna find out. gulping down your nerves, a soft nod of your head. climbing out the car, rafe’s arm gently placed around your waist. the softness such a contrast to the way in which he first touched you.

quick introductions, playing the part. rafe's tight grip on your arm reminding you the consequences if you don't. "y'gonna sit there and look fuckin' pretty, 'kay?" he mumbles into your ear, pushing you down onto the chair. look pretty. okay, that you could do.

"rafe's just the sweetest guy i ever met," you feign a smile, leaning into him next to you, dialling up the affections before his family. ward and rose's eyes dart between each other and you. rafe? sweet? "m'so glad i met him."

fucking jackpot. you're playing this better than rafe ever could imagined, a soft kiss to the top of your head, pulling the dining chair you're sat on closer to his own. his arm gently snaking around your waist, letting you continue on with the forced pleasantries.

"he looks after me s'good," you smile, batting your lashes over to rafe. the smile on his face isn't fake, he's genuinely impressed with the performance you're putting on. "always spoiling me."

"damn right i do," rafe smirks, unable to stop the way his fingers are starting to move up under your top. c'mon, he can't help it. you're too fucking pretty and saying all these nice things about him. can barely blame him, especially when he sees the look of disapproval in rose's eyes when she notices.

"gotta look after my girl." he murmurs, loud enough for the room to hear, playing it off as though the words were meant only for you.

he's not entirely sure if everyone is buying the act, but somehow, it's working for him. rafe's genuinely getting caught up in your words, the feel of your skin beneath his fingers, the way your smile lights up your entire face. he couldn't give a fuck if the act was working on his dad, it was working on him.

"so, how'd you met?" wheezie smiles, leaning on her palms, all too excited about rafe bringing a girl home.

"country club." rafe mutters before you can attempt a lie they won't believe. his eyes barely looking away from you to answer his sister. "mhm, yeah, at the country club." you smile, nodding your head softly. rafe can't hold back the small chuckle that escapes him, pressing a kiss to your temple. you're so obedient, echoing his words, playing the perfect girlfriend. he's almost forgotten he threatened to kill you if you didn't.

his family can barely believe the scene, how gently he's touching you, how softly he's speaking to you, he was acting like someone they'd never seen before. they weren't questioning if you were his girlfriend or not, you'd manage to sell that perfectly well. ward and rose were almost in awe of how you'd managed to turn rafe into what appearred as a functioning human with emotions.

"come on, princess, we gotta go," he mumbles after an hour or so, gently leading you up and towards the door. "so soon?" wheezie complains, jumping onto her feet. rafe only rolls his eyes, ignoring his sister, too focused on getting you alone. "so nice to meet you all!" you smile, waving softly as rafe leads you back to his car.

your nerves take over once you're alone in the car again with him, driving out of his estate. "did i do okay?"

"did fuckin' perfect." rafe nods, a devilish grin plastered over his face. his hand squeezing your thigh over your tights. "that mean you can let me go now?" you whisper, lip between your teeth.

"no fucking way."

no way was rafe letting you go now, not ever. he'd had a taste of what he could have with you, he'd be stupid to let that go. you may have played the part a little too well.

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.

[chloeangelbaby]

You don’t love me

Crybaby! Reader x Rafe Cameron

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It had been weeks of the same routine. Rafe was up early, gone all day, and by the time he got home, he was too exhausted to do anything but collapse into bed. You understood at first—Rafe worked hard, and running a company wasn’t easy. But as the days turned into weeks, his absence began to gnaw at you.

Tonight, you’d reached your limit.

You were sitting on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, when the craving hit. You wanted ice cream, something sweet and cold to take your mind off the void of Rafe’s company. You peeked into the kitchen but found nothing that would satisfy you.

“Rafe?” you called, walking into the bedroom where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Yeah?” His voice was tired, his eyes barely lifting to meet yours.

“I wanna go for a drive. We can stop and get ice cream or something,” you said, your tone hopeful.

Rafe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Baby, I can’t tonight. I’m dead on my feet. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

The casual dismissal stung. “No, it can’t wait,” you snapped, your voice rising. “You’ve been saying that all week! Tomorrow, tomorrow—what about me, Rafe?”

“I’m doing this for us,” he said, his tone defensive. “I’m not saying no because I want to. I’m exhausted, okay?”

You stared at him, your emotions bubbling over. Before you knew it, you were crying, your chest heaving with sobs. “You don’t care! You don’t care about me anymore!”

Rafe frowned, standing up. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“Fair?” you spat, your voice cracking as you stomped your foot. “What’s not fair is you ignoring me all the time! All I wanted was a stupid drive, and you can’t even give me that!”

“Dolly—”

“Don’t call me that!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Your words tumbled out in a jumble, barely making sense. “You don’t listen to me! You don’t care! You just… you just—”

You weakly shoved at his chest, your small fists thumping against him as you hiccupped and choked on your sobs. Rafe stood there, letting you vent, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to grab you or give you space.

“You’re mean! And, and… I hate you!” you wailed, though you didn’t mean it.

Finally, Rafe had enough. “Alright,” he said, his voice firm. He grabbed your wrists gently but firmly, holding them still. “That’s enough, baby. Stop.”

But you didn’t stop. “You don’t love me!” you blubbered, your head dropping forward as you sobbed uncontrollably.

Rafe sighed, pulling you into his chest despite your protests. “I love you more than anything,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “But you’ve got to calm down, okay? You’re working yourself up too much.”

“I-I can’t!” you hiccupped, your body shaking in his hold.

“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Breathe, Dolly. Come on, with me. In and out.”

You tried, but the sobs kept breaking through, your breaths coming in shallow gasps. Rafe scooped you up and carried you to the bed, sitting down with you in his lap. He started rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I just… I just wanted…” you sniffled, unable to finish your sentence.

“I know,” he said softly. “I know, baby. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend lately, haven’t I?”

You nodded against his chest, your tears soaking his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice full of genuine regret. “You’re right—I haven’t been around enough. I’ll fix it, okay? Starting tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” you mumbled, your voice small and wobbly.

“Promise,” he said, lifting your chin so you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “And tonight, I’ll make it up to you. We’ll stay up and watch whatever you want, or I’ll run out and get ice cream. Anything you need, baby.”

You sniffled, wiping your face with your sleeve. “Just want you…”

“You’ve got me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

Your sobs began to subside, your breathing evening out as Rafe continued to hold you close. You clung to him, your face buried in his neck, finally feeling the comfort you’d been craving.

“Love you,” you whispered.

“Love you more, Dolly,” he murmured, his voice a soft promise against your hair.

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[rafeslittlepup]

rafe loves mansplaining real estate to her bimbo girlfriend over lunch at the country club

“okay, so picture this,” rafe says, “we lock in two properties before the end of q3. oceanfront. one’s a teardown, but it’s got good bones.”

you look at him, blinking slowly. freshly glazed nails curl around your iced rosé like it’s a lifeline, the faintest smear of your charlotte tilbury lipstick on the glass.

“teardown sounds sad,” you pout, “like… demolition? that’s loud, rafe.”

rafe stares at you, “baby, that’s not the point, it’s not like we’re doing it.”

“oh! well, yeah,” you giggle looking at your nails. “obviously, ew.”

he sighs, biting into his sandwich. “you didn’t get a single word of what i just said, huh?” rafe laughs despite himself, wiping his fingers on the linen napkin. “you’re so dumb, princess.”

you pout a little, “that’s not true… i’m more into like, aesthetics. i want to have a fashion line one day, rafey.” you said as you play with your kale caesar salad.

“you thought a foreclosure was a type of facial.”

“doesn’t it sound like one?” you shrug, wide-eyed. “like… hydration-based foreclosure peel or something.”

“jesus christ.”

“anyway,” you say, ignoring him completly. “can we go look at the tennis skirts at the pro shop after this? i want one in white, with like, the built-in panties.”

“whatever you want,” he mutters, rubbing a hand down his face.

“and maybe you can buy me that little goyard bag too? i saw one in butter yellow and it made me think of cupcakes.”

“you are so unserious, princess,” he says, but he’s already pulling his black amex out.

you lean over the table and kiss his cheek, getting lipstick on him like always. “yeah, but you love it.”

he definitely does.

[rafesplaymate]

First Encounter.

Bestfriendsboyfriend!Rafe x Bimbo!Reader

⋆. 𐙚˚ 𑁤 navigation. ⋆. 𐙚˚ 𑁤 masterlist. ⋆. 𐙚˚ 𑁤 euphoria au masterlist.

chapter visuals here.

warnings: slight smut. infidelity (not on reader). choking. dumbification. immoral thought process. substance use (drinking while driving.) power dynamics. dom / sub dynamics. toxic behaviors. manipulation / gaslighting. slight coercion / dubcon?

a/n: i am so hyped to release this AU. been playing around with it for a while. i decided to use maddy’s name from the show so im sorry if you’re a maddy. Her face claim is NOT alexa demie, can be anyone you imagine. not verbatim to the storyline / scene —my version of it —btw they’re all out of high school. enjoy!

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Bang. Bang. Bang.

“M’fuckin busy! Fuck off!” Growls Rafe breathlessly, too entranced by his sweet doll who he’s pounding into the door. Pressing sloppy kisses to her cheek as he groaned into her skin; her bruised bottom lip hidden behind her front teeth in an attempt to keep her volume down as he presses her body to the bathroom door. But breathy moans and whines couldn’t help but slip past her swollen lips. The heat they built up in the restroom almost suffocating. Harsh breathes and moans of pure desire being passed to one another. He’ll be damned if he lets some stupid party-goer ruins this for him. Something he’s been dying to have.

“Rafe?!” His girlfriend knew that voice, wondering why she hasn’t seen him around the party. “Are you serious?! Open the fucking door, I have to pee! I’m not fucking around! Where have you been?!” she shouted, her voice full of vexation as she continues fumbling with the knob and banging on the wood from the other side. Sure, they’d been on a ‘break’ since their latest fight, but the was still her man and she wants to know what the hell he’s up to.

As for Rafe and y/n, the realization of who’s on the other side of the door —makes time stop. Their bubble of passion and intoxicating ambience getting popped. He looks at his doll’s eyes widen with immense fear, her lips parting to speak and the only thing coming out being a squeak when he shoves his large hand over her mouth. Her beautiful doe eyes looking into his as he presses her to the door and catches his breath. Mind calculating at the situation.

“Sh, relax —told you to trust me, didn’t I?”, he whispered gruffly to her; his eyes glaring with warning as he pressed her harder into the door. The banging from his girlfriend on the other side shaking her half-naked body as fear and anxiety drips from her eyes in the form of tears. “Don’t fucking cry. I swear to god —don’t. Just relax.” His voice softened slightly to accumulate her compliance once more.

He watched as her body relaxed slightly until the banging started up once again and his girlfriend started shouting for him to let her in once more. “Are you taking a shit? I can smell it, you’re fucking gross!” She mocked with a laugh, her hand jangling the knob once more. He watches as his doll’s hand comes down to press against it, keeping it in place as her eyes look at him for resolve, tears dripping down once more.

“I told you to stop crying, are you fuckin’ serious right now?” He reprimanded her, dragging his hand down her face to grip her throat while he repositions himself to hop her higher and adjust her body. “If you start trippin’ she’s gonna find out so, chill.” He mocked her, leaning his head in with his infamous smirk as he brushed his lips against hers. Not too deterred by his girlfriend on the other side. In fact the thrill sets him off and he begins grinding into her once more.

Her eyes flutter with the feeling as she relaxes her body once more, thighs widening around his waist as her manicured hand grips the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah… there you go. Sh, just let me take care of it —of you, alright? No need to worry that empty little head. I got it.” He whispered against her mouth, his chest burning with satisfaction at her submissive whimpers as she whines under her breath.

“Bu-but…” she starts up, her sweet voice filled with guilt as her brows furrow once more in worry. Looking deep into his cobalt eyes as he domineers her with his presence. “She’s my best friend.” She whines sweetly, her voice shaky and demeanor racked with culpability. It makes Rafe want to ruin her that much more, determined to break down her faithfulness to the girl on the other side. It should only be to him, he’ll be damned if it doesn’t happen.

“What about it?” He mocks under his breath, grinding his hips into her once again, watching as her brows furrowed and lips formed an ‘O’ and she fell into his being easily, brain going fuzzier from his cock in her. “She’s my girlfriend, but you didn’t mind too much when you were taking your panties off in my car to show me this pretty pussy, did you? Or when you were kissing and rubbing up on me.” He ridicules her for her earlier actions, for the reason she’s even in this position to begin with. Gaslighting her into believing she was the one who started this, even though he’s the one who knotted the web he caught her in.

“Don’t worry about what she is. Just worry about being good for me, and I’ll take care of it. Kay? Told you that your loyalty lies with me now.” He whispered to her, pressing his lips against hers softly as his girlfriend’s resolve broke and she walked off with a scoff. Leaving the two alone once more —just as it should be, in his mind.

“See? Nothing to worry about. Now where were we.”

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If Rafe said he was surprised he ended up in this position he would be wrong. Because he’d been dying too, ready to claim the little doll he’s had his eye on since the relationship with his girl has fallen into the flames of irreparability. Their toxicity no longer fun and draining as he find himself wishing he’d never got to this point in the first place. Or got with her.

But oh…. her sweet, little best friend has been the salvation he’s been dreaming about. Her mindless way of being consuming his every thought as he calculates how to catch her in his grip. How to ensure she becomes his, and his alone. Friendships and relationships be damned.

And it seems his constant thoughts of her finally manifested in real time. Smirking to himself as he walks out the door of the liquor shop he stopped by to get drinks before heading to Topper’s. His doll faced fantasy sitting outside on the sidewalk in her tiny little dress and cute heels as she sniffles to herself. Glittery eyes decorated with equally glittery tears as she drinks her sorrows away. Tired of the constant berating from everyone around her. Exhausted even.

The perfect time for Rafe to be her knight in shining armor.

“Hey,” he spoke out after leaving the shop. Coming to tower behind her, as he stares down at her. Watching as her gorgeous face turns up to look at him, eyes focusing on him with a false innocence that has every guy on the island vying after her constantly. Tits spilling out of her small dress, cute lace thong peeking out from the short skirt and her position on the sidewalk. French tipped toes in strappy heels pointed together as her knees held against each other. “What’s going on with you? Aren’t you suppose to be at the party? Where’s Maddy?”

He watches as she shrugs, looking down and letting her tears fall onto her smooth legs, that gleam under the moonlight with body glitter and lotion —as pitiful sobs rack from her chest once more. She’s the epitome of pathetic and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of it.

“We had a fight. She dumped me here. Said I was too dumb for her to be around. Too much.” She whispered pathetically, caving in on herself as her blinged, manicured nails fiddle with each other. Her cute nose twitching like a bunny as she sniffles —a baby bunny he’s determined to eat up and savor like the big bad wolf he is.

A scoff leaves Rafe’s mouth as he shakes his head. Lips quirking at the sides, as he speaks to her with insincere consolation in his voice. His pathetic girl, of course she’s too much. Head too empty, and in need of constant guidance. A little lamb wobbling on her weak legs as she attempts to walk and luckily she has him to guide her like a sheppard.

Everyone knew y/n was an airhead —a bimbo. As sad as it is to say, it’s completely accurate. She’d always been too sweet and too dense for her own good, with a banging body and pretty face. Maybe not the sharpest crayon in the box but she sure as hell was always the prettiest. Her point constantly dulled out by the way she was used —by everyone around her. Taking turns and fighting over who gets to color with her. Rafe is the one who’s determined to break her in half and keep her in his pocket. Completely unusable to anyone else except for him.

He remembers when he met her back in high school. Bouncing around Tannyhill during one of Rafe’s functions; in her skimpy outfit as her plump chest practically spilled out. Little, g-string nestled between her cheeks as the bottom of her tiny skirt lifted with her movements. Stumbling around in strappy heels, with manicured toes. Her body shimmering with glitter and flawless complexion shining under the strobing lights of the party. Pretty eyes decorated with sparkles and plump lips glossed as she giggled at the boys surrounding her.

She was the complete opposite of his girlfriend —her best friend. Both equally as beautiful, equally as stunning. But two completely different demeanors. Yin and Yang. Night and Day. Sweet and Salty. And that’s why they worked so well, that’s why they clicked. But that’s also why Rafe realized he had a sweet tooth way more than a savory one. Feeling like he chose the wrong meal when he preferred dessert as he observed her more and more over time —the more and more his relationship fell apart.

When he’d first met Maddy during the end of his junior year, he’d been completely entranced by her domineering and confident attitude. Equal to his and intoxicating. She was a challenge, something to conquer. A kitten with sharp claws he wanted to tame and let scratch him. She had been moving around enticingly in her skimpy cheer uniform during one of their pep rally’s, her sharp eyes gazing at him with desire as she seduced him. She was everything he wanted in a girl. At least that’s what he felt at the time.

Now 3 years into their relationship and he’s really understanding the saying that not all the glitters is gold. Thinking with his dick got his throat ripped out constantly by the lioness he succumbed too. His relationship was quickly and surely falling into the toilet and he was completely ready to flush it away. Tired of the constant fighting, the constant paranoia of setting her off and exhausted from the way she constantly set off the ticking-time-bomb he was.

Him and maddy were nearing the end —that was forsure. At first their toxic attitudes colliding was fun —thrilling even. Now though, it was anything but. She was sick and tired of his dodgy demeanor and asshole tendencies. His need to dominate her and the way he lashed out when he couldn’t. He was sick and tired of her constantly picking away at him, leaving him exasperated as she yapped away anytime he did something she felt was out of bounds. The constant battles for power, the constant attempts at enticing jealousy, the constant paranoia and possessiveness, the constant screaming matches —on both ends.

The sex was getting dull. In fact, it already was. So tired of her bullshit and constantly pressing her face into the sheets just to shut her the fuck up and get his nut in. His desire for her wearing off to the point that he felt like he couldn’t get it up anymore. In fact, she’d already ridiculed him for not being able to keep his dick hard. That’s when he knew, that any passion he may have once had for her had completely weaned away. And all they did was beat an already dead and rotting horse. It was time for something fresh.

The more his relationship declined, the more he noticed y/n. Fuck, she was so sweet. Like a delicate chocolate crafted with the intent to make everyone addicted, with just a taste of her presence. One he wanted no one else but him to savor. Sweet giggles and charming smiles, the way she hugs everyone with her chest pressed tightly to theirs. An air of glittery, demure charm that made everyone want to be around her. Gorgeous body, pretty face and an head so empty he swears if he knocked on it —it would sound hollow.

But the more he observed her, the more he noticed everything. Her constant need for validation, her lack of confidence. The way she so easily fell for anyone who gave her the slightest bit of soft affection. The way she clinged onto people like a stray needing shelter. Sad eyes hidden behind kind smiles, and charming giggles. The way she caved in on herself when she someone disregarded her. It was perfect, the perfect canvas for him to mold at his whim and every desire. The only thing that stopped him was her devotion to her best friend.

Maddy and y/n had been attached at the hip since they were pre-teens. Their friendship may have seemed tight from the outside perspective, but Rafe knew the truth. Their whole circle did.

Maddy saw y/n as her accessory, someone she could manipulate when convenient. Her doll to play with and use however she desires. Constantly speaking to her with a patronizing and condescending tone hidden behind faux care. Berating her with soft words of fake love. Dragging her around whenever she wanted, to wherever she wanted and disregarding her whenever just the same. Making her submit constantly. And y/n let herself, she felt like it was real-genuine love.

So it’s no surprise to Rafe that Maddy tossed her out after a fight. That’s just what she does, to everyone. No regard for anything that isn’t benefiting her. But he should thank her, because she created the perfect situation for him to get what he wants and he’ll be stupid not to take the opportunity. Maybe she was Maddy’s doll to play with, but Rafe would steal her and make her his and his alone. Like a limited edition that only he would have access too.

“Well, uh” he started, staring down at her with pure mischief in his gaze that she would never catch onto. His pathetic girl who needed someone to scoop her up and protect her from the cruel reality surrounding them. “I’m headed over there right now, I could give you a ride. If you’re up to it?” He said sincerely, watching the way her eyes lit up with cheer as the sadness washed away. That bright smile he adores, once again adorning her gorgeous face as she squeaks out a, “really? yes! thank you!”

He walks to stand in front of her and extends his hand out, letting her smaller one grasp his palm as he lifts her up from the sidewalk. Watching as her dress rises up more with her movements and exposes the tiny g-string she wore. His eyes immediately falling to the wrapped up present between her legs as she let out a ‘whoops!’ and adjusts her dress. Pulling it down like it did anything, her ass was still hanging out.

“C’mon, Top’s waiting on me.” He said with charm, gripping her now by her upper arm as he tugged her to the passenger side of his truck and opened it up for her. Letting her grip his hand to step onto the side bar as she lifted herself up —watching as her ass showed from under the dress until she tucked herself away into the passenger seat. “Thanks Rafe”, she told him sweetly. Giving him that pretty smile while he just nodded his head and returned it. Shutting the door and quickly jogging over to the driver’s side.

Once he gets in, he immediately starts the engine —putting his arm over the passenger seat and turning his head back to guide himself out of the parking space. It’s when he turned back forward after reversing and putting the car into gear that he noticed her staring at him. “Got something on my face, or what?” He jokingly griped, turning to look at her as she looked at him with her head tilted —observing him.

“Hmm, no. You’re just like, really pretty you know that?” She giggled, her faux lashes fluttering as Rafe’s lips quirked at the corners from her comment. One foot into the black hole that was Rafe Cameron, one step closer. “Yeah? Well I could say the same about you, doll.” He quipped back, watching as her smile widened and she leaned her body closer to his. Rafe’s fingertips burning with want as her sweet smelling perfume invaded the truck and his senses.

“You’re just saying that,” she said softly, turning her head to look out the window as she fiddled with her tinsled hair. “Nah, I mean it. You’re beautiful.” He said with confidence, watching her turn back to face him as she clung onto his words. Observing the way he reached his arm back to grab a beer out of the case he bought. Biting the cap off and spitting it out before placing it between her parted thighs, then reaching back to grab another for himself. “Um… I’m-I’m already a little buzzed.” She admitted, staring at the beer on her lap after he bit the cap off his; spitting it on the center console. Throwing it back and taking a big chug as he sped down the dark road to Topper’s.

“Y’know, it’s rude to decline a drink from someone who’s being so nice to you.” He drawled, left arm steering the wheel as his he brought the bottle to his lips and took another swig. ‘Future’ playing lowly in the background as he turned to look at her. Watching as she looked at him with guilty eyes and bit her pretty lips between her teeth. “Oh,” she stated softly, grabbing the beer and fiddling with it. “M’sorry Rafe, didn’t meant to be.” She said sweetly, bringing the bottle to her lips as she took a swig —clearly nervous. But the way she did exactly what he said was perfect.

As they both continued to take swigs of their drinks, tension and silence filled the car. Rafe staring at her every once in a while with a look that screamed want. Her looking at him with worry every few seconds when he began speeding up the car. The mileage amping up as they zoomed down the dark road. Her blinged acrylics gripping the seat to ground herself. It’s when Rafe went over a bump and the beer held in between her legs spilled over did she react. ‘Oh!’ she gasped at the cold liquid splashing on her legs.

She began giggling with embarrassment, unbuckling her seat belt and turning to wipe down any that fell on the seat as she looked at him with a coy smile. Rafe staring at her with an impish smirk as he watched her scamper with nerves. Finally settling back down and finishing off what was left of her drink as she held eye contact with him.

“Yeah… you’re real beautiful, doll.” He said with a bewitching tone. His eyes full of burning want that even her dumb, little brain could catch onto. She knew that look, that look in men’s eyes when they vied after her. And she reveled in it, reveled in Rafe’s attention —his validation.

As if entranced, with slow, sensual movements she lifted the skirt of her tight dress just a bit —hooking her thumbs against the edges of her g-string. She lifted her hips and with soft movements, began rolling the material down her thighs and legs seductively. Rafe’s gaze flickering between her little show and her gaze filled with unadulterated desire —when he didn’t need to look at the road. She bit her bottom lip between her teeth as she finally got them off her legs and threw them in the back. Lifting herself to push her upper body out of the open window and spreading her legs to show him the wetness between her legs.

Keeping eye contact as she spread herself open for him until she titled her head back and pushed out her plump chest sensually. Hair swaying cinematically in the wind as she posed for him. Rafe’s entire body burning ablaze and filling with triumph as she fell right into his lap. His eyes lowering to her cute pussy that he wants to ravage and own. Fuck yeah. He was gonna have her, take her. Make her his.

His sweet, little bimbo. His doll.

⋆. 𐙚 . ݁₊ ⊹ . 𐙚 ˚ 𑁤 . ݁₊ ⊹ .˚ 𑁤 . ݁₊

When they finally pulled up to Topper’s she had been bent across the center console on her knees; pressing desperate kisses across his cheek and neck. Manicured hand rubbing over the bulge in his pants as she moaned against his skin. Rafe’s left hand white from gripping the steering wheel while his right arm was around her back —hand groping her ass as the tips of his fingers teased her wetness. “Fuck —baby” he started, bringing the truck to a halt outside of the function. Listening to her whine as she pressed sloppy kisses all over him and rubbed his hard-on. “We’re here, doll. Gotta stop.” He watched as she pulled back with a whine, her eyes full of dejection as she moved away from him.

“Did I… did I do something wrong?” She mewled, rejection filling her body. Rafe gripped her by the back of her head, leaning his body over the console and bringing her closer till heir lips met in a sloppy, harsh kiss of tongue and teeth clashing. When he pulled back, a string of saliva kept them connected —her eyes fluttering with lust as they stared into each other. “You didn’t shit wrong, baby.” He scolded while shaking her head in his grip. “Nah, in fact you did exactly what you’re suppose to.”

He watched as her eyes lit up, leaning herself into him as much as she could with the barrier. The alcohol buzzing through her veins alongside her burning desire for him. Her head fuzzy and filling up with thoughts of Rafe, Rafe, Rafe. Needing him to do whatever he pleases with her just as long as he keeps giving her attention and love. That’s all she wants, all she needs. Especially from him.

Rafe stopped her before she could connect their lips again, bringing a hand to grip her face and hold her in place as he spoke to her with firmness. “Hey, listen. I know it’s hard for that little brain to think but I need you to listen to me, okay?” He told her, needing her to understand it’s his word that takes priority. Her head nodding as much as it could with the grip on her face. Eyes digging into his own as she awaited his command.

“That’s a good girl, so good for me already.” He praised, watching as her expression changed into satisfaction. Her eyes full of adoration. Perfect, it was all coming together just as he wanted. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, now listen to me very carefully”, he urged. Slowing his words so her head full of air can catch onto them. “M’gonna go in first, okay? Then m’gonna to the upstairs restroom and I want you to meet me there. You know we can’t walk in together.”

The look in her eyes was quickly replaced penitence, the feeling of remorse sinking deep in her gut —filling her body and setting her nerves ablaze. Her need to be loyal quickly filling her senses with the fact that she was kissing on her friend’s man. Her best friend, at that. She tried to move her grip from his face, but Rafe quickly caught on. “Hey, no —relax. We’re not doing anything wrong, doll.” He cooed, consoling her guilt and trying to appease her now anxious demeanor.

“But-“ she tried to start up, quickly cut off by a gruff, “But nothing.” He said harshly, tightening his hold on her as her body tensed with fear at the thought of Maddy finding out. Rafe wouldn’t let that happen, not until he made her —his. She didn’t need to be loyal to anyone but him, least of all Maddy.

“Your loyalty lies with me now, okay? Don’t worry about Maddy, you know we haven’t been good for a long time.” He assured, but the guilt flickering on and off in her gaze was still there and he was determined to snuff it out completely. “She doesn’t care about you. But, I do. I just wanna take care of you, baby. Want you to take care of me too. M’gonna make sure everything is okay, gonna protect you. So stop forcing yourself to think so hard, you know that’s not your thing.” And that was enough for her, her head immediately going back to its dazed state as she relaxed in his grip. Her resolve deflating completely.

“O-Okay” she faltered, letting herself breakdown at his whim. Letting her head fill up once again with only him. “I trust you”, she vowed. Letting herself fall that much more into his black hole of a being. And it’s all Rafe needed to hear, all he needed to know that he gets his way —always. She was going to be his, bound to him completely. Maddy nor even herself would be able to stop it —no. This was the beginning of a relationship that would set ablaze everything they knew. He was more than prepared to either snuff it out or add gasoline to the fire if needed.

Just as long as she knew her place. Knew what she was and who she would dedicate herself too. He would break her down, take away everything she knew. He would ensure she had no one, nothing but him. Destroy what was already left of her mind and wavering self-esteem so she would be completely dependent on him and him alone. It wouldn’t be now, but it’s a start. One he’s determined to finish and come out in triumph.

“That’s my doll. Now be good for me and do as your told. I’ll see you inside.”

⋆. 𐙚 . ݁₊ ⊹ . 𐙚 ˚ 𑁤 . ݁₊ ⊹ .˚ 𑁤 . ݁₊

a/n: phew! the first installment set. i didn’t want to copy the scenes verbatim, more so use them as inspo. i hope yall enjoy! pls let me know what you think! much love!

taglist: @littlelamy @xcinnamonmalfoyx @slut-4-gojo @hello-therree @atjlovverr @letmebeyoureuphoria @chroniccorpse @percysley @rafecameronssl4t @rafesangelita @lilbunnysfics @honeyncherry @jjsmermaid @cecehersworld @lethimultraviolenceme

[xxbirkindoll]

tangled lines | 18+

pairings: bsf!rafe x bimbo!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, jealous & possessive rafe, fluff, reader is kind of an airhead, soft!rafe, smut, soft sex, oral (fem!receiving), reader uses the word “daddy” two times

summary: rafe gets jealous after seeing reader with a guy at a party and things gets heated when they get to his house

word count: 5.2k

You and Rafe Cameron have always been inseparable. From the time you were kids on the Cut to now, practically glued together as if one of you couldn’t function without the other. You’re the only person who can put up with Rafe’s moods, his temper, and his intense need for control. But you don’t just put up with it, you adore it.

You aren’t scheming or calculating; you don’t try to be mysterious or play hard to get. You’re…well, you’re simple in the best way. You have a heart that could outshine the sun, but sometimes it feels like your head is in the clouds. You aren’t exactly known for your smarts, but that doesn’t bother you. Or Rafe, for that matter.

He loves you for your warmth, your loyalty, and how you can light up any room you enter. But there’s another side to your friendship that’s anything but innocent.

It starts with the little things—Rafe keeping a hand on your back when you walk through crowded rooms, the way he leans in to whisper something in your ear and then lets his lips linger a bit too close to your skin. And when he stares down any guy who so much as looks at you, you don’t ask questions. You just accept it as Rafe being Rafe, your best friend who always takes care of you.

You adore the way he is with you, how he makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the world. And maybe you’re too oblivious to notice how strange it is for two best friends to act this way. How other people often raise an eyebrow when they see the two of you together, whispering to each other or exchanging looks that seem to hold secrets no one else can understand.

But what everyone doesn’t know is that you love it. You love every moment of it. The attention, the possessiveness, the way he always has his arm around you. It makes you feel safe, cherished, and, though you would never admit it, desired.

And then there are the parties. The kooks love their parties, and you and Rafe are always at the center of them. It’s just another Saturday night, and the familiar buzz of bass-heavy music vibrates through the house. Bodies sway, alcohol flows freely, and the scent of sweat and perfume mingles in the air.

Rafe is easy to spot in any crowd. He stands taller than most, and there’s a certain confidence in his stance that draws people’s attention. You’re always close by, smiling and laughing, blissfully unaware of the longing looks Rafe casts your way when you’re not looking.

Tonight, you wear a tiny, tight pink dress that hugs your curves and shows off your long legs. Rafe can’t keep his eyes off you. The way the fabric clings to your body, the way your plump lips pout naturally without you even trying. It’s driving him insane.

You’re at the bar, chatting with one of the other kooks. Some guy who Rafe vaguely recognizes but couldn’t care less about. His name doesn’t matter. What matters is the way he’s leaning in a bit too close, the way his eyes wander over your chest like he has any right to look at you like that.

Rafe’s jaw clenches as he watches, his grip tightening around the bottle in his hand. He doesn’t even realize he’s walking towards you until he’s already there, sliding between you and the guy with a possessiveness that makes the other guy take a cautious step back.

“Hey, babe,” Rafe says, his voice smooth as silk as he slides an arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

You blink up at him, a little startled but then grinning, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Hi, Rafey!”

He internally smiles at the nickname. He despises it, but loves it when it’s coming from your mouth.

The guy who had been talking to you shuffles awkwardly, clearly sensing the tension radiating off Rafe. He mumbles some excuse and quickly disappears into the crowd, leaving you two alone.

Rafe watches him go with narrowed eyes before turning his attention back to you. “What were you talking to him about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, clearly not giving it much thought. “He was just asking about the party, I think.”

Rafe frowns. “You think?”

You tilt your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Rafe can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You giggle, leaning your head against his chest. “I know.”

But then your smile fades as you look up at him, your eyes wide and sincere. “Rafe, why did you come over here? You seemed mad.”

Rafe’s expression softens as he looks down at you. You really have no idea, do you? How could you be so completely oblivious to the effect you have on him? To how much it drives him crazy to see you with someone else, even if it’s just a harmless conversation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Rafe admits, his voice low.

You blink, your brows furrowing in confusion. “Looking at me?”

“Yeah,” Rafe says, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Like he thought he had a chance.”

“Oh,” you say softly, biting your lip as if you’re trying to process his words.

Rafe sighs, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “I just…I don’t like other guys around you, baby. Not like that.”

Your confusion melts away, replaced by a soft smile that makes Rafe’s heart skip a beat. “Aw, I don’t want anyone else, Rafey. Just you.”

His breath catches in his throat at your words. Do you even realize what you’re saying? What that means? But before he can ask, you’re leaning up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that makes the rest of the room disappear.

Your kisses are sweet, gentle, and taste like the fruity drink you had been sipping on earlier. Rafe responds instantly, his arm tightening around your waist as he deepens the kiss, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair.

The kiss is nothing new. You’ve kissed before. Innocent, playful kisses that friends sometimes share. But this…this feels different. There’s an intensity behind it, a hunger that neither of you can deny.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“You’re mine, Y/n,” Rafe whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

Your eyes flutter open, and you smile softly. “I’ve always been yours, Rafe. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend. The words echo in Rafe’s mind, and for the first time, they don’t feel right. They don’t encompass what he feels for you, what he wants from you. But he doesn’t push it. Not tonight. Not yet.

He presses another kiss to your forehead, pulling you into his arms. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

You don’t argue. You never do when it comes to Rafe. You let him lead you out of the house, away from the noise and the crowd, and into the cool night air. You don’t say much as you walk, but the silence between you is comfortable, familiar.

You end up at Rafe’s house, as you often do. It’s practically your second home, and Ward and Rose don’t mind you crashing there. You have your own spot in his bed, your own drawer in his dresser. It’s just what you do—best friends who are closer than most.

You settle into Rafe’s room, and you immediately make yourself at home, kicking off your pink Playboy heels—that your Rafey bought for you—and flopping onto his bed. Rafe watches you with an affectionate smile, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“You’re really comfortable here, huh?” he teases.

You grin up at him, patting the spot beside you. “Of course! You’re my bestie.”

Rafe rolls his eyes at the term, but he can’t deny the warmth it brings him. He crosses the room and sits down beside you, his hand resting on your thigh. You don’t flinch or pull away; you never do. You just look at him with that same trusting smile you always give him.

“Rafey?” you ask softly, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your dress.

“Yeah?” he responds, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Do you ever…do you ever think about us doing more stuff?” you ask, your voice hesitant as if you aren’t sure how to phrase the question.

Rafe’s heart skips a beat, but he keeps his voice steady. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like…we kiss and stuff. And we’re always together. People ask me all the time if we’re dating, and I always say no, but…” You trail off, your brows furrowing as you try to find the right words.

“But?” Rafe prompts, his hand moving up to gently squeeze your knee.

You bite your lip, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “But we never had sex…”

Rafe feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. He’s always tried to keep his feelings for you in check, convincing himself that your friendship is enough. But hearing you say those words, hearing you admit that you wouldn’t mind being more…he can’t hold back anymore.

"Baby..." Rafe begins, his voice rough with emotion as he searches your eyes for any sign of hesitation. But there's nothing there-only that familiar trust and a hint of something more, something deeper.

You wait patiently for him to speak, your heart pounding in your chest, feeling like it might explode with anticipation.

The room feels smaller, more intimate, and the air between you crackles with tension that's been building for far too long.

Rate's hand moves from your knee to your face, his thumb gently brushing across your cheek. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice almost a whisper. "Are you sure you want this?"

You lean into his touch, nodding without a second thought. "I'm sure, Rafe. I've never been more sure of anything."

His heart swells at your words, and any doubt that's been lingering in the back of his mind dissipates. You're not just saying this-you mean it. You've always been honest with him, even when it's been hard. And right now, the honesty in your eyes, in your voice, is unmistakable.

Rafe leans in slowly, giving you one last chance to change your mind, but you don't. You close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that's softer, more tender than any of the ones you've shared before. There's no rush, no urgency—just the two of you, finally giving in to the feelings you've both been suppressing for so long.

He deepens the kiss, his hands sliding down your back to pull you closer, as if he can't bear to be even a millimeter away from you.

You respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pour everything you have into this moment, into him.

You've kissed Rafe before, but this... this is different. It's more intense, more passionate. It feels like you're crossing a line that you can never come back from, but you don't care. You want to cross it-you want to dive headfirst into whatever this is, whatever it could be.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you try to catch your breath. The world outside his room feels a million miles away, and all you can focus on is the way his fingers trail up and down your spine, the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"Y/n," Rafe murmurs, his voice laced with emotion. "I've wanted this for so long. I didn't know if you felt the same."

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze with a softness that makes his heart ache. "I didn't realize it at first," you admit. "But now...l can't imagine being with anyone else, Rafe. I only want you."

His grip on you tightens, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if he's trying to memorize the feel of you.

"You don't know how happy that makes me," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You smile, a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "Then be happy, Rafe. Because I'm not going anywhere."

Rate pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if he's making sure this isn't some kind of dream. When he's satisfied that you're really here, really his, he smiles—a genuine, heartfelt smile that you don't see from him often enough.

"You're mine," he says, his voice firm, possessive.

You nod, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I've always been yours, Rafe. You're my best friend."

The words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, Rafe's smile falters. Best friend. The title doesn't feel right anymore-not after everything that's just happened. But he doesn't correct you. Instead, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he's afraid you might slip away.

"You mean more to me than that," he murmurs into your hair.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"

Rate hesitates for a moment, but then he decides there's no point in holding back anymore. You've always been his—he just never let himself believe it could be real.

"I mean, you're everything to me, Y/n," he confesses, his voice low and sincere. "You're not just my best friend. You're... the person I want to be with. The only person I can see myself with."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, and for a moment, you're speechless. You've always known Rafe cared about you-he's shown it in a million different ways. But hearing him say it out loud, hearing him admit that he wants to be with you, makes your heart swell with an overwhelming sense of love and belonging.

"Rafe..." you start, but he cuts you off with another kiss, this one more urgent, more desperate, as if he's trying to convey everything he feels for you in that single moment.

You respond eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, as if you're afraid to let him go.

The kiss deepens, and soon Rafe is hovering over you, his hands roaming your body as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you.

You let out a soft moan as his lips move to your neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there, trying to mark you. The sound drives him wild, and he can't help but smile against your skin as he continues his ministrations.

"Rafey," you breathe out, your voice laced with need. "I need you."

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice rough with emotion.

You nod, your hands gripping his shoulders as if you're afraid he might pull away. "I've never been more sure of anything."

That's all the confirmation Rafe needs. He leans down to capture your lips in another heated kiss and for the first time, you feel like you're exactly where you're supposed to be. In Rafe's arms, with his lips on yours, with the knowledge that he's yours and you're his.

The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and demanding, as Rafe's hands roam over your body. There's a fire between you now, an unspoken understanding that tonight is different—that tonight, you're both finally giving in to what you've wanted for so long.

Rafe's hand moves to the hem of your dress, his fingers brushing against your bare thigh. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, and you arch into him, craving more. He takes the hint, his fingers slipping under the fabric, slowly sliding up your thigh until they reach your hips.

You let out a soft gasp as he grips your hips, pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed together, every inch of you touching. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, the hard planes of his chest against your softer curves. It's intoxicating, the way he's looking at you, as if you're the only thing that matters in the world.

"Rafe..." you breathe out, your voice trembling with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

"Shh," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another wave of shivers through you. "I've got you, Y/n. I promise."

There's a tenderness in his voice, a promise of care and love that reassures you, calms the nerves fluttering in your stomach. You trust him—of course, you do. He's Rafe, your best friend, the one person who's always been there for you. And now, he's here for you in a way that's even more intimate, more special.

Rafe's hands move to the back of your dress, his fingers deftly finding the zipper. He pauses for a moment, looking into your eyes as if asking for permission one last time. You give him a small nod, and he slowly pulls the zipper down, the sound filling the quiet room.

The dress loosens around you, and with a gentle tug, Rafe pulls it down your shoulders, revealing more of your skin to his hungry gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he takes it off your body, throwing, leaving you lying before him in nothing but your pink lace underwear.

Rafe's breath catches in his throat as he takes you in, his eyes raking over every inch of your exposed skin. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice full of awe.

A blush creeps up your neck, and you bite your lip, feeling suddenly shy under his intense gaze. But Rafe quickly dispels any insecurities you might have by stepping closer, his hands cupping your face as he kisses you again, this time slower, more deliberate.

You melt into the kiss, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. You tug at the fabric, wanting it off, needing to feel his skin against yours. Rate seems to read your mind, because he pulls away just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it aside carelessly.

Your breath hitches at the sight of him, his toned chest and defined abs on full display.

You've seen him shirtless before, but this is different—this time, he's yours to touch, to explore. And you waste no time, running your hands over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

Rafe groans softly at your touch, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you against him. The feel of your bare skin against his sends a jolt of electricity through both of you, and before you know it, his lips are trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

You moan softly, tilting your head to give him better access, your hand gripping the back of his neck as you hold him close. The sensations are overwhelming, each kiss sending a wave of pleasure through you, making your body hum with anticipation.

Rafe's kisses move lower, down your collarbone and over the swell of your big tits, his hands sliding up your sides to gently cup them. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, as if silently asking if this is okay.

You nod, your breath coming in short gasps as you watch him, your heart pounding in your chest. Rafe leans down, pressing a kiss to the center of your chest before moving to one of your breasts, his lips closing around your hard nipple as his hand strokes the other.

You gasp, your back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure washes over you. The sensation is new, intense, and it sends a thrill through your entire body.

Rafe's mouth is hot and insistent, his tongue flicking over your sensitive skin, driving you wild with every touch.

"Daddy," you moan, your voice trembling with need as you cling to him, your long nails digging into his shoulders.

He responds with a low growl, his free hand sliding down your body, brushing over your stomach and down to the waistband of your underwear. His fingers tease the edge of the fabric, and you can feel the heat pooling between your thighs, your body aching for more.

Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. "Is this okay?" he asks, his voice thick with emotion.

You nod, too overwhelmed to form words, your heart racing with anticipation. Rafe leans down to kiss you again, his lips soft and gentle against yours as he slowly slides your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

He pulls back to look at you, his eyes filled with awe and reverence as he takes you in. "You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice full of emotion as he runs his hands over your thighs, spreading them gently to make room for himself.

Your breath hitches as Rafe settles between your legs, his hands gripping your hips as he lowers himself down, his mouth hovering just above your core. He looks up at you one last time, his eyes asking for permission, for confirmation that this is what you want.

You nod, your body trembling with anticipation as you watch him, your breath coming in short gasps. And then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Rafe leans down and presses a kiss to your sensitive clit, his tongue flicking out to taste you.

The sensation is overwhelming, a surge of pleasure that has you moaning his name, your fingers gripping the sheets as you arch off the bed. Rafe's mouth is hot and insistent, his tongue working in slow, deliberate movements that drive you wild with every flick and swirl.

He's slow, methodical, taking his time to explore every inch of you, to learn what makes you moan, what makes your body tremble beneath him. And you respond eagerly, your body reacting to every touch, every kiss, your mind lost in the haze of pleasure that he's creating.

"Daddy, please," you moan, your voice trembling as you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

Rafe growls in response, the sound vibrating against your skin as he increases the pace, his tongue moving faster, his lips closing around your most sensitive spot as he sucks gently. The sensation sends you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you come undone beneath him, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm.

He doesn't stop, doesn't pull away, instead continuing to work you through your release, his hands holding you steady as your body shakes with pleasure. When you finally come down from the high, your breath coming in short, gasping pants, Rafe pulls back, a satisfied smile on his lips as he crawls back up your body.

He kisses you, and you can taste yourself on his lips, the sensation sending another wave of desire through you. But Rafe is patient, his kisses slow and deliberate, his hands gentle as they caress your sides, your hips, your thighs.

"You okay?" he asks softly, his voice full of concern as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You nod, smiling up at him, your heart swelling with love and affection. "I'm perfect," you whisper, your voice full of emotion as you reach up to cup his face, pulling him down for another kiss.

The kiss quickly grows more heated, more desperate, and soon you're tugging at Rafe's pants, your hands eager to feel all of him, to have him as close as possible. He groans against your lips, his hands fumbling with the waistband of his pants as he helps you, quickly shedding the last of his clothing.

When his cock is finally free, he presses his body against yours, his skin hot and firm against your softer curves. The feel of him, hard and ready against your thigh, sends a thrill of anticipation through you, and you instinctively spread your legs, inviting him closer.

Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he positions himself at your entrance. "You sure, baby?" he asks, his voice trembling with emotion as he holds himself above you, his breath coming in short gasps.

You nod, your eyes wide and trusting as you look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm sure, Rafe. I want this. I want you."

He smiles, a soft, loving smile that makes your heart skip a beat, and then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he pushes into your cunt, filling you completely.

The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and a slight sting as your body adjusts to his size. You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath coming in short pants. Rafe stills, giving you time to adjust, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your neck, your shoulders, your face.

“You okay?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice full of concern.

You nod, smiling up at him as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “I’m okay, Rafe. Just…move.”

He nods, his eyes dark with desire as he slowly begins to move, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm that has you moaning his name, your body responding eagerly to every thrust. The pleasure quickly builds, the slight sting fading away, replaced by a deep, intense pleasure that has you arching into him, your nails digging into his back as you cling to him.

“Rafe,” you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure as he increases the pace, his hips snapping against yours with a newfound urgency.

He groans in response, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hands gripping your hips as he drives into you with a desperation that matches your own. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mingling with the sounds of your moans and his grunts, creating a symphony of pleasure that drives you both to the brink.

You can feel the tension building, the pleasure coiling tightly in your belly, and you know you’re close. Rafe seems to sense it too, because he shifts slightly, angling his hips just right, hitting that sweet spot inside you that has you crying out his name, your body trembling with the force of your approaching orgasm.

“Come for me, Y/n,” Rafe murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come around me.”

His words send you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you come undone, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. The pleasure is intense, overwhelming, and you cling to Rafe as you ride out the waves, your breath coming in short, gasping pants.

Rafe follows you over the edge moments later, his body tensing as he groans your name, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he finds his release, his body shuddering with the force of it and comes inside you.

For a moment, the world fades away, and there’s nothing but the two of you, tangled together in a mess of limbs and sheets, your bodies pressed together as you come down from the high. Rafe collapses on top of you, his weight comforting as he buries his face in your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both catch your breath, your hearts pounding in sync. The room is quiet now, the only sound the soft rustle of sheets as you shift slightly, your bodies still pressed together.

After a few moments, Rafe lifts his head, looking down at you with a soft, loving smile that makes your heart swell with affection. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gentle as he caresses your cheek.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs, his voice full of emotion.

You smile up at him, your heart overflowing with love. “So are you,” you whisper, reaching up to pull him down for a gentle kiss.

The kiss is slow and tender, a promise of more to come, a promise that this is only the beginning. Because now that you've crossed that line, there's no going back. But you wouldn't want to go back, not after feeling what it's like to be with Rafe like this, to be his completely.

When the kiss finally ends, Rafe rolls onto his side, pulling you into his arms. You snuggle into his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you close your eyes, feeling a sense of peace that you've never felt before.

"I love you, Y/n," Rafe murmurs, his voice soft and full of emotion as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you look up at him, your eyes wide with surprise and joy. "I love you too, Rafe," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

He smiles, a genuine, heartfelt smile that makes your heart flutter, and pulls you closer, holding you tightly against him as if he's afraid to let you go.

"You're mine," he murmurs, his voice firm and possessive.

You smile, snuggling into his chest as you close your eyes, feeling completely content in his arms. "I've always been yours, Rafey," you whisper, your voice full of love and affection. "And I always will be."

You tilt your head up to look at Rafe, a soft smile on your lips as you watch him sleep. His features are relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips even in his sleep. You can't help but reach out to brush a strand of hair away from his forehead, your heart swelling with affection.

As if sensing your touch, Rafe stirs, his eyes fluttering open to find you watching him. He smiles sleepily, pulling you closer as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You smile back, snuggling into his chest. "Good morning."

There's a comfortable silence between you, the kind that only comes from years of knowing each other inside and out. You both lie there, basking in the warmth of each other's presence, neither of you in any hurry to get up.

But eventually, Rafe speaks up, his voice hesitant. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" you reply, your head resting on his chest as you listen to the steady beat of his heart.

"About last night.." he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss, your lips capturing his in a slow, lingering kiss that leaves him breathless.

"Don't overthink it," you murmur against his lips. "It was perfect."

Rafe smiles, a sense of relief washing over him as he pulls you closer. "Yeah, it was," he agrees, his voice full of emotion.

You both fall silent again, but this time, there's a sense of contentment between you. Because no matter what happens next, you know that you've crossed that line, and there's no going back. But that's okay, because being with Rafe feels right. It feels like you've finally found where you belong.

As the morning light filters through the curtains, you realize that this is only the beginning. You and Rafe have always been inseparable, but now... now you're something more. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Because with Rafe by your side, you know you can face anything. Together.

A/N: yall i tried my best i swearrr!!!! i really like the bimbocore aesthetic and i feel like i could make a whole series with rafe and his bimbo gf. like blurbs and fics and stuff. tell me if you want to see more of rafe x bimbo!reader in the future. love uu💗

ps: the dividers are from @anitalenia

[itneverendshere]

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)

warnings: future smut. paring: smart!reader x himbo!rafe; ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)

you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.

what’s the point? okay, your school has incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?

the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.

up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him.

the verdict? total pain in your fucking ass.

ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him.

outrageous, never done before.

for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.

wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.

not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.

“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“

“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”

“just soccer?”

you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”

"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"

you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.

“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."

you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”

pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.

“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.

“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."

you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.

your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.

“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"

“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“

you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”

“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”

you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”

your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."

you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"

pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”

your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”

rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.

“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”

“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”

you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.

pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”

you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”

pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”

your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.

"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"

he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”

“seriously?”

pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”

your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.

“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”

he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”

you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”

he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."

you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."

he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."

you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."

it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?

“the ball’s in your court.”

yeah it is.

truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.

at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.

so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.

but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.

you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.

you had pope for that.

which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.

a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.

taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.

the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.

you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.

there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.

“hey?”

“you look like shit, cameron.”

rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”

you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”

rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”

you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.

there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.

"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”

rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."

he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.

you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”

"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."

“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”

rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"

"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”

you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.

and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.

“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. “will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”

rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.

“why are you mad at me?”

you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.

"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"

he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”

rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

that’s it.

you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.

“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”

for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.

“and you want to fuck me?”

you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.

“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”

he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”

"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”

rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”

“yes or no.”

rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”

“okay. so win your next match and you will.”

he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”

“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”

"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”

you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."

rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."

“i figured.”

he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”

you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”

rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."

you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.

rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.

“just win the fucking match, cameron."

rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.

"consider it done."

[cameronsbabydoll]

what would rafe do if spoiled kook reader got mad at him because he didn't buy her this bag she really wanted so she starts ignoring him?

spoiled!kook!reader getting mad at rafe for not buying the purse she wanted

he knows you’re mad the second you don’t run up to his car.

no kiss, no pouty little “missed you,” no fingers curling around his hoodie like you always do. just a glance. a barely-there shrug. you turn back toward the house without a word, and it makes his jaw clench.

he follows you inside anyway, slamming the door a little too hard behind him. you don’t even flinch.

“so you’re just not talking to me now?” he calls, voice sharp. “over a purse?”

you curl up on the couch, flipping the tv on like he’s not even there.

“seriously, princess? you’re really doin’ this shit?”

no answer. no look. nothing.

he breathes hard through his nose. cracks his knuckles. it’s quiet for a long second before he’s storming across the room and yanking the remote from your hand, tossing it onto the coffee table like it personally offended him.

“you’re gonna ignore me like some spoiled little brat?”

your eyes snap up. wide and glossy.

“you called me a spoiled brat,” you mumble, voice all soft and wounded. “you said i didn’t need it.”

he groans. low and rough. sinks down on the couch beside you, dragging you into his lap like it’s instinct.

“baby,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours, “you drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

your arms stay folded. you look away.

he grabs your jaw, gentle but firm, turning you back to face him.

“i didn’t say you couldn’t have it. i just didn’t like the way you acted. you know i’d buy you ten of that stupid bag if you asked me right.”

you blink up at him, lip wobbling.

“then why didn’t you?”

“‘cause i wanted to remind you who spoils you,” he murmurs, fingers dragging up your thighs, “and who you belong to.”

you don’t say anything—but your body goes soft in his lap.

and the next morning, the bag’s on your dresser.

still in the box.

still with the receipt.

and a little note scrawled in his messy handwriting:

next time, try askin’ sweeter.

r.c.

[drewswife]

how sorority!reader and frat!rafe met

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawn of Gamma sorority house. Laughter and the splashing of soapy water filled the air as the sisters put the finishing touches on their charity bikini car wash. It was their biggest fundraising event of the semester, all to go towards much-needed renovations for their beloved, slightly worn house. Excitement buzzed through the group, fueled by sugary sodas and the thrill of seeing their hard work pay off.

You, ever the enthusiastic and slightly mischievous member, had been particularly energetic, playfully spraying your sisters with the hose between scrubbing bumpers. You’d even convinced your friend, Chloe, known for her artistic flair, to create a hilariously exaggerated sign featuring a cartoon car practically begging for a wash. The Instagram posts leading up to the event had been your brainchild too, filled with sunny selfies and promises of sparkling clean cars for a mere five dollars. The response had been fantastic, a steady stream of vehicles lining up throughout the day.

Now, as the last sudsy car gleamed under the sunlight, a collective sigh of happy exhaustion swept through the group. You leaned against your bucket, a contented smile on your face, your red solo cup filled with ice-cold lemonade resting beside you. Your own outfit, a vibrant blue bikini top paired with denim booty shorts, felt comfortable and practical in the warm weather.

Just as you were about to suggest ordering a celebratory pizza, a rumble echoed down the street. You looked up to see a massive, lifted pickup truck turning into your driveway. It was shiny and black, looking like it had just rolled off the dealership lot. Inside, you could make out several figures. As the truck slowly rolled to a stop, you noticed there were six guys crammed into the cab.

Your eyes widened slightly as the driver’s side window lowered, revealing a blond guy with a noticeable, well-defined bicep flexing as he rested his arm on the door. He had a wide, goofy grin that crinkled the corners of his blue eyes. There was a playful glint in them that made you raise an eyebrow.

“Hey gorgeous, we came to get a car wash,” he called out, his voice carrying a confident, teasing tone.

You pushed yourself off the bucket, a sarcastic smile playing on your lips. You sauntered towards the truck, your red solo cup in hand, your movements radiating a casual confidence. You pointed to the brightly colored sign prominently displayed near the entrance of the driveway.

“Noooo,” you drawled playfully, emphasizing the word, “you drove through the driveway where a sign very clearly says ‘bikini car wash, five bucks.’” You punctuated your statement with a theatrical sigh, pretending to be utterly put out by their apparent lack of observation.

The blond guy erupted in a loud laugh, a genuine, booming sound that made a couple of your sorority sisters giggle. He leaned further out the window, still grinning, and held up a twenty-dollar bill. “Ur funny, I like it,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Keep the change, sweetheart.”

A flicker of something annoyance crossed your face, though you quickly masked it with a playful roll of your eyes. You reached for the twenty, your fingers brushing his briefly.

“Oh, I’ll keep the change, alright,” you said, your voice laced with mock sweetness. “For the house, of course. So, which one of your… uh… magnificent vehicles would you like us to work our magic on first?” You gestured towards the truck with a sweeping motion of your hand.

The guy chuckled again. “This beast right here,” he said, patting the side of the truck affectionately. “She needs a good scrubbin’.”

As your sisters gathered around the imposing truck, armed with sponges and soapy water, the blond guy hopped out. He was taller than you’d initially thought, with broad shoulders and a relaxed, easygoing demeanor. He introduced himself as Rafe. The other guys piled out of the truck as well, a boisterous group who seemed just as amused by the whole situation as Rafe was.

While your sisters started on the truck, Rafe leaned against the hood, watching with an amused expression. He kept his eyes on you as you directed the operation, a natural leader among your friends. He’d occasionally throw out a teasing comment, always ending it with that infuriatingly charming “sweetheart.”

“You’re quite the bossy one, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he’d say with a smirk as you instructed Chloe on the best way to get the mud off the tires.

“Someone has to keep things running smoothly,” you’d retort, deliberately ignoring the endearment. “Unlike some people who just show up and expect a sparkling clean truck for a measly five bucks.”

“Hey, we paid twenty!” one of his friends called out defensively, earning a playful shove from Rafe.

As the car wash progressed, you found yourself stealing glances at Rafe. There was something undeniably magnetic about his easy confidence and that persistent, slightly annoying grin. He seemed genuinely entertained by your banter, and despite your feigned irritation at being called “sweetheart,” you couldn’t deny a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips whenever he said it.

As they were about to leave, Rafe turned to you, his blue eyes holding a hint of something more than just amusement. “Thanks for the wash, sweetheart,” he said, the word rolling off his tongue with a familiar ease. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

You met his gaze, a playful challenge in your own eyes. “Maybe you will,” you replied, a hint of a smile finally breaking through your mock annoyance. “Just try not to track too much mud next time.”

He laughed, that booming sound you were starting to finding not entirely unpleasant. He winked, hopped back into his truck, and with a final wave.

more

taglist

tags,@spencerreid66 @mysticbby2009 @zenithsturniolo @starrii-sturns

a/n: does anyone know that one pic of Drew hanging out the car window Imagine that

[222col]

bimbo!reader x rafe cameron

summary: rafe likes you too much to let you go (part one can be found here)

cw .ᐟ hints at nsfw, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome

꒰ notes ꒱ based on the film buffalo '66 (1998)

stockholm syndrome— a coping mechanism to a captive situation. the physiological response to being held hostage, in which the captured develop a bond with their captor.

trapped in the shitty motel room, that typically rafe wouldn't be caught dead in. but he had to think quick, take you somewhere no questions would be asked.

still in the same clothes, rafe liked the pink tights and sheer skirt too much to bother going to buy you new ones. nothing to do with the fact he thought you'd escape if he left you alone, he knew you'd grown to accept that you weren't going anywhere.

he didn't force you to stay only within the four walls of the motel, he took you out too. on dates, if you will. local diners, makeshift picnics on the beach, rafe was being the perfect gentleman. well, as gentlemanly as one can be to his hostage.

"m'hungry." you murmur, fiddling with the hem of your skirt as you sit on the edge of the bed. "yeah, princess?" rafe mumbles, gently running a hand over your back from where he lays behind you. his softness had become a welcome change, no more harsh touches or screaming of orders. only when you were acting up.

he was testing the waters, taking you to the country club. he'd been exclusively taking you places where pogues frequent, the country club was the furthest thing from that. a place where people knew his name, his family.

drink in hand, actually good food on your plates, you were the picture of perfection to accompany it. "better, baby?" rafe mumbles, gulping down the liquid in his glass. nodding your head, opening your mouth to speak before interruption ensues.

"is rafe cameron on a date?" the blonde speaking laughs out the words, slapping a hand to the back of rafe's neck. you'd assume it was a friend, but the way rafe's jaw clenches in response makes you believe otherwise.

rafe leans away from his grip, eyes harsh as they meet the blondes. "fuck off topper, can't you see i'm busy?"

"touchy," topper smirks, as he looks over you from head to toe. rafe can see exactly what he's thinking, and he hates it. "where you been hidin' this girl, cameron?" god, if only he knew...

rafe is already up and standing, eyes level with topper. gaze warning, daring him to say anything more. he was the one who found you, did all the work to make you his, this is why he'd been keeping you locked up in that motel. no prying eyes to ogle at you, the only person who could look at you was him. the only one who could touch you, think of you even, was him.

"fuckin' quiet now, aren't you?" rafe taunts, a smirk threatening his features. watching the bob of topper's throat, swallowing down the nerves. "not a word, topper. don't even look at her."

you're almost impressed, watching how fast topper walked in the other direction. starting to piece parts of rafe's life together, quickly realising just how influential he must be. him specifically or his family name— you're not sure.

"you okay, doll?" rafe almost whispers, hand reaching over the table to gently take yours. you want to argue, tell him that topper barely did anything for you to be not okay about. but part of you can't help but play up to his concern. "mhm, thanks to you." you murmur softly, gently nodding your head.

the smile that spreads across his face is sinful. he was protecting you, and you were letting him. no arguments, no attempting to escape, you were grateful.

it was becoming too normal. rafe was long forgetting the circumstances to which you're lying next to him on the motel bed. the bruises he left on your ribs the first day were starting to disappear, the memory of your pleading starting to vanish from his mind. left only with the feeling of your hands on his skin, the gentle brushes through his hair, soft kisses to his cheek.

facing each other on the mattress, fingers interlocked between your bodies. no words exchanged, but his attention was solely on you. looking over the faint remaining eyeshadow left on your eyes, how your necklace pooled on your throat how you laid, the small indent on your bottom lip from where you'd been chewing.

"you're so pretty," he mumbles, thumb stroking over the hand in his. it wasn't the first compliment he paid you, but it was the first to make you blush. soft dusty pink washing over your cheeks, shy smile on your lips. squeezing your hand gently, before removing it from yours to caress your cheek. "i mean it."

unable to stop the way your face nuzzles against his touch, eyes fluttering shut. "never want you to leave me." he admits, voice barely above a whisper.

the words hit your ears and the air in the room suddenly feels different. he's genuine, almost... insecure, scared you'll beg him to let you go again. he's not sure he'd be able to deny you if you asked to leave again. "i don't want to." you whisper, softly reopening your eyes to meet his.

rafe's yet to taste your lips, but he's sure he just fell in love.

"you— you don't?" rafe asks, in disbelief. his hand cups your face, searching for any sign of uncertainty. "i don't." you assure, moving your hand to his face, mirroring his position to yours.

rafe tentatively shuffles closer, noses almost touching. feeling his laboured breathing fan across your face. his lips ever so softly touch yours, as though he was holding himself back. you were too precious, too soft to ever rush. for the first time, rafe wanted to go slow. lips kissing over your bottom lip, gently swiping his tongue across, asking for entry.

tongues meet and his eyes are rolling back beneath his eyelids, never had rafe tasted someone so sweet. one kiss, and he was completely done for.

"i like you, rafe." you whisper softly, lips kiss swollen.

"i more than like you, princess," he murmurs, voice as quiet as your own. "never letting you go."

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.

꒰ taglist ꒱ @khartalks @funkycoloured @bluestrd @appleaali @stanart4clearskin @donteventry-itdude @ssst4444r @gublerstylesobrien1238 (to be added)

[chloeangelbaby]

Pillow princess

crybaby! Reader x Rafe Cameron

———————————˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊————————————-

You were weightless, boneless, floating somewhere between sleep and reality. Your body was soft, limp against the sheets, your limbs draped over Rafe’s as he held you close. The air was thick with the scent of him—cologne, sweat, and the faintest hint of his shampoo.

You sighed, completely fucked out, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you nuzzled into his chest. “Mmm.” That was all you could manage, a tiny, content little noise, barely above a whisper.

Rafe smirked, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns up and down your side, his other hand resting on your throat, just where you liked it. His thumb brushed over your pulse, feeling the rapid little beat beneath your skin, like a caged bird trying to escape.

His grip was never tight—just there, firm and grounding, a silent reminder that you were his.

You exhaled shakily, melting further into him. “Feels good,” you mumbled sleepily, voice hoarse and used.

Rafe hummed, dragging his knuckles over your jaw before tilting your chin up, forcing your hazy eyes to meet his. “Yeah?”

You nodded, lips parting, breath coming out in soft little pants as he ran his fingers back down, pressing lightly at the base of your throat.

Your lashes fluttered. Your lips trembled.

“More,” you whispered, barely conscious but still needy, still desperate for his touch.

Rafe chuckled, his hand tightening just slightly, just enough to make your body go lax. “Fucking pillow princess,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there. “Can’t even keep your eyes open, huh?”

You whimpered, shaking your head, slipping deeper and deeper into that fuzzy, floaty space where everything was warm and perfect and him.

“Did so good for me, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with pride, fingers stroking over your skin. “Go to sleep. I got you.”

And you did—safely tucked away in Rafe’s arms, his hand never leaving your throat.

————————————˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊———————————

[rafesplaymate]

Euphoria AU

Bestfriendsboyfriend!Rafe x Bimbo!Reader

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 𑁤 navigation. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 𑁤 masterlist.

Summary: Hidden moments between Rafe and his girlfriend’s sweet, little best friend. Whose empty little head he fills with nothing but thoughts of him and resentment toward his girlfriend —her best friend. A series of one shots loosely based off nate & cassie scenes from euphoria.

warnings: infidelity (emotional / physical). dumbification / objectification. man-handling . drugging / coercion. dubcon. toxic relationships / dynamics. toxic / abusive behaviors. manipulation / gaslighting. dom / sub dynamics. sexual content. dark themes / adult content.

⋆. 𐙚 . ݁₊ ⊹ . 𐙚 ˚ 𑁤 . ݁₊ ⊹ .˚ 𑁤 . ݁₊

⋆. 𐙚 . ݁₊ ⊹ . 𐙚 ˚ 𑁤 . ݁₊ ⊹ .˚ 𑁤 . ݁₊

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 𑁤 First Encounter. (out now)

© 2025 | rafesplaymate

[beasangel]

talk later

⤷ rafe cameron x kookfem!reader (kinda spoilt/ditzy) 💗

💭 “and that every guy in that restaurant wanted you. That you were sitting there looking like a fucking dessert and acting like you didn’t notice.”

warnings(?) : light smut (i'd say), car sex

rafe masterlist main masterlist

a/n this reader is ditzy and kinda bimbo, ngl this is fun to write for.

The heat hung heavy in the air as you and Rafe pulled into the driveway, the blue of his truck glinting under the sun. Your gloss was still fresh, your hair perfectly waved, and your tiny two-piece set clung like a second skin , a cropped halter and a matching mini skirt that rode scandalously high with every step.

Lunch had been cute. You’d ordered your usual and tattled away with not a care in the world. But Rafe had watched you like a man starved.

Now, you were shifting your legs over his lap in the driver’s seat like you didn’t even realize he was seconds away from snapping.

“Okay, so I was thinking,” you began, all breathy and clueless as you settled your thighs across him, “after Pilates, I could swing by the mall and maybe stop at that new boutique, you know the one with the little rhinestone bikinis? Ugh, I need one.”

Rafe didn’t respond. His hand found the hem of your skirt.

You didn’t even flinch. “They’re, like, dumb expensive but sooo cute. I told Margot she should get one too, but she said she’s trying to save money. Like, for what? She lives at home.”

His fingers slid higher.

Still nothing from you.

You were too busy checking your reflection in the rearview mirror, reapplying your strawberry gloss.

“I might skip the dinner party Friday though,” you hummed, lips pursed. “Unless Topper’s cook makes oysters again. They’re gross but, like, cute for stories, you know?”

Rafe’s hand curled tight on your thigh.

“Mm,” he muttered.

You finally glanced down. “Are you even listening?”

“I’m listening,” Rafe said, voice tight.

You tilted your head, blinking big and pretty.

“To you talk about pilates and bikinis while you’re sitting on my lap like this.” His hand slipped fully beneath your skirt, warm fingers splaying possessively. “In that little outfit.”

You gave a soft giggle, brushing hair from your shoulder. “You like it though.”

His eyes darkened. “Yeah, I like it. But you haven’t even looked at me since we got in the truck, babe.”

“I’m looking now,” you said sweetly, turning fully toward him. “Hi.”

He just stared.

“So then I told her I couldn’t do brunch and yoga, like, what does she think I am? A machine?” you laughed, tilting your head toward Rafe. “Anyway, pilates at three, mani at six—”

“Cancel it,” he said flatly, eyes on the road.

You blinked. “Cancel what?”

“All of it.”

You scoffed, pouting. “Rafe, I already rescheduled from yesterday. I can’t just bail—”

“Get in the back.”

“What? Why?”

“Now.”

You raised a perfectly arched brow, all faux confusion, even as your heart fluttered. “Rafe…”

He didn’t answer. Just got out of the car and slammed the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes with a little huff, unbuckled your seatbelt, and climbed into the backseat. By the time he opened the door, you were sitting cross-legged in your tight little skirt.

“You’re being weird,” you said, playing with your hands.

He climbs in, pulling you onto his lap, completing what you had done earlier.

“Maybe ‘cuz I've been staring at you all day,” he muttered, mouth skimming your jaw. “and that every guy in that restaurant wanted you. That you were sitting there looking like a fucking dessert and acting like you didn’t notice.”

“I didn’t,” you said, breath catching.

He laughed, low and dangerous. “Liar.”

You giggled, about to say something cheeky, but his mouth was already on yours, possessive and heated. You melted fast, arms winding around his neck like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His hands found your thighs and lifted you back before you could squeak out a response. Your phone slipped from your hands and tumbled onto the seat as he crawled on top of you, pushing your back flat against the seats.

“Rafe!”

“I told you to quit playing games.” His mouth was on your neck, breath hot, grip rough as he shoved your skirt up.

“I wasn’t-” you gasped when his fingers hooked under your panties. “I was just talking!”

“You do that a lot,” he muttered. “Talk.”

His fingers slid through your slick, teasing. He grinned when you arched up toward him.

“You’re so full of shit,” he said lowly, sitting up slightly to unbuckle his belt. “Actin’ like you didn’t want this.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, nails scratching down his back. “You always get mad when I give you attention and then mad when I don’t.”

“I get mad when other people look at you.” His trouser fully down now, lifting himself out of his underwear

You laughed, breathless, your eyes not leaving what he revealed. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s your tits’ fault,” he growled, pressing his hips into yours. “Your stupid little voice. That dumb smile. All of it.”

You moaned when he pushed into you, breath catching. “Fuck…”

His hand curled around your jaw. “Can that pogue fuckin’ waiter do this?”

You shook your head, eyes glassy.

“Can he fuck you like this, princess?”

“No,” you breathed.

“Didn’t think so.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, movements slow and filthy, your moans building louder with each thrust.

That’s when your phone buzzed.

Neither of you moved for a second—, hen you giggled, biting your lip.

“Could be Liv,” you whispered, stretching back to grab it. “She’s probably waiting for me.”

Rafe glared. “You’re not seriously-”

You answered it.

“Hey babe,” you panted, trying to steady your voice. “I’m-uh-still at Rafe’s.”

Rafe bit your shoulder and kept going, unrelenting.

Your free hand clawed at his shirt as you spoke, breath hitching between words. “No, yeah, I’ll be there soon. Just… just got held up at lunch.”

Rafe grabbed your jaw and tilted your face back toward him, his eyes dark with lust and something more. You tried to focus on the call, lips wobbling.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, “I’ll be there soon, okay?”

You ended the call just as Rafe picked up his pace.

“Really?” he grunted. “You answered the phone?”

You giggled, arching up to kiss him. “You liked it.”

He kissed you hard, greedy and biting.

And when it was over, when you were collapsed on his chest with his hand tangled in your hair, you turned your face up to him, eyes wide.

“I’m so late,” you whispered. “I have to shower.” “Oh baby,” he smirked, kissing your jaw. “you're not goin’ anywhere.”

[cameronsbabydoll]

pink isn’t a personality (but it helps!)

you’re sitting cross-legged on the rug, nursing a cherry white claw and twirling your sparkly acrylic around the tab. your babydoll top is riding up a little, and your pink mini skirt barely covers anything when you shift, but you don’t notice. you’re too busy trying to keep up with whatever grown-man topic the guys are talking about—something about taxes or investments or, like, stocks?

you nod along anyway. smile when drew glances at you.

he’s on the couch with three of his older friends, deep in conversation. they’re sipping whiskey and tossing out terms that make your head spin, and you keep trying to chime in, even though you have no idea what they’re saying.

“wait,” you say brightly, perking up. “so like… crypto is money that’s fake but also not fake?”

there’s a beat of silence before one of the guys snorts. the others laugh. it’s not mean, exactly—but it’s loud. and a little sharp. drew chuckles too, kind of distracted.

“yeah, that’s one way to put it,” one of them says, grinning like he just discovered fire. “god, you’re adorable.”

“she’s got the spirit,” another one jokes, raising his glass.

you giggle, trying to take it lightly. you’re used to being called adorable. clueless. ditzy. it’s part of your charm, right?

but then it keeps going. they start tossing little comments your way. not mean, but not…nice, either.

“what’s the last book you read, sweetheart? green eggs and ham?”

“drew, where’d you find her—barbie’s dream house?”

“does she even know what taxes are?”

you laugh along at first. you always do. but your throat starts to tighten and your smile gets harder to hold. you glance at drew—expecting him to say something, maybe tell them to knock it off.

but he just gives you a soft look, like come on, baby, they’re just joking.

and maybe they are. but it doesn’t feel funny.

later, when the guys are gone and the house is quiet, you’re standing in the kitchen rinsing out your drink can with way too much force. drew comes up behind you, arms around your waist, but you don’t melt into him like you usually do.

“hey,” he murmurs. “what’s wrong?”

you pause, fingers trembling a little as you set the can down.

“they were making fun of me,” you say softly. “and you didn’t even—i don’t know—you didn’t say anything.”

he frowns. “babe. they weren’t making fun of you. they were just teasing.”

“it didn’t feel like teasing.” you look up at him, lashes wet. “it felt like they think i’m stupid. like i’m just your dumb little girlfriend who wears pink and doesn’t know stuff.”

drew’s whole face softens. he exhales and cups your cheeks with both hands.

“hey. no, no, no. no one gets to make you feel like that. especially not my friends. they were being dicks.” he kisses your forehead, slow and warm. “and i’m sorry i didn’t say anything sooner. i should’ve.”

you sniff, arms curling around his waist. “you don’t think i’m dumb?”

“baby.” he laughs under his breath. “you’re the smartest, sweetest person i know. you’re curious, and funny, and you make everyone feel happy just by being around.”

you blink up at him, pouty. “even when i say dumb stuff?”

“especially then,” he grins. “you think i don’t like hearing you ask if ‘crypto is like monopoly money’?”

you giggle a little, still teary. “it is though…”

“exactly.”

he picks you up onto the counter like you weigh nothing, pressing kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your lips.

“they don’t get it,” he whispers. “they don’t see what i see.”

you smile, soft and slow. “what do you see?”

he kisses you again. “everything i want.”