tinythebunni

[tinythebunni]

[tinythebunni]

છ rafe interrupting girl time

── ✦ .ᐟ sarah’sbestfriend!reader

you knocked on the door of the cameron’s home, holding your breath. you love sarah. she was the sweetest girl you’ve met in outer banks so far and you were surprised she wanted to be friends. to hang out with you, just like she asked today. you’d loved coming over the few times before. then you met her brother who wouldn’t be at the home when you were.

and you would catch yourself staring. sometimes not hearing sarah when she would say something to you. sometimes dropped things just from being in his presence. would excuse yourself to sarah’s ensuite to check on your appearance.

but rafe didn’t notice these things. wouldn’t even acknowledge you. you two hadn’t spoken before. why would you? you’re sarah’s friend. her older brother wouldn’t want to talk to her friends. it made sense.

but still.. you found yourself doing the little while getting ready today. you spent extra time on your hair, strategically applied your layered scents, and spent longer than you’d like to admit picking out an outfit while questioning what would rafe like?

but you didn’t mind. on the slight chance he was here and would notice you, you wanted to look good. was it unrealistic that he would see you and make some sort of move? possibly. but the man was so enigmatic. handsome. charming. you’re not sure what you wouldn’t do for him without him even asking.

you fluffed up your hair absentmindedly as someone opened the door. you smiled, going to greet sarah, when you saw it was rafe who opened it.

rafe, who couldn’t look better if he tried. rafe, with a bored expression on his face.

you quickly stilled your mouth, peering hesitantly up at him.

he scrunched his brow. you frowned. what did you say? well, you didn’t say anything. what did you do? you looked down at yourself, wanting to immediately remove whatever rafe saw and didn’t like.

“you bake cookies for her or something?”

you looked back up to rafe. “cookies..? no.. i do love baking, but i didn’t bring anything. why? would you like me to bring some next time? i wouldn’t mind”

of course you didn’t. but of course you went and said more than he asked for.

rafe continued to stare at you, not responding. you twisted your lips, glancing down.

“you smell like ‘em”

you looked up to see rafe had walked away from the entryway, allowing you to step inside.

he noticed.

the tiniest smile blossomed, and you stepped in, shutting the door behind you.

you glanced around, noticing sarah wasn’t downstairs.

“um.. do you know where sarah..”

rafe interrupted your question, speaking while tapping on his phone. “upstairs”

you looked to him once more. for your first real interaction, you wanted to bask in it. but rafe looked like he was over talking. and you didn’t want to stand there staring.

you glanced away, sighing softly, and made your way up to sarah’s room.

you found her lying belly down on the bed, feet twiddling behind her, messing with nail polish. she looked up at your entrance, squealing.

“you’re here! come on, i need you to pick out my color”

you closed the door behind you, settling in the same position as her at her side. you looked at the options. some pink, some red. mostly different shades of both colors.

you giggled at the somewhat lack of options. “um.. what are you going for? something simple and cute, or a little bold..” you held up the dark red. it was so her color and you’ve seen her wear it before.

she bit her lip in lieu of response. you gasped softly. “oh.. it’s serious..”

she slightly smirked at you, still seemingly nervous.

“sarah cameron, is this about a boy?” you softly poked her side, sidling closer. “a certain.. blonde.. surfer.. bandana wearing..”

you said pointedly at the bandana tied around her wrist. you’d noticed her wearing some. whether on her neck or wrist, you saw it. and you had a feeling where they were coming from.

“..boy?” you finished off, looking back up at sarah. you weren’t trying to tease her too much, you were just so happy for her. she seemed happier. was up to some crazy things lately from the stories she relayed to you. and alongside some boy you saw around.

she smiled down at the bandana. “yeah.. things have been getting a little serious..”

you sat upright, too excited to continue lying down. “oh, please tell everything” she sat up too and you grabbed her hands, slightly bouncing the two of you.

“okay, okay..” she laughed out. “i’ll tell you while you apply the polish that you think john b will like..”

you immediately held up the red. “come on” you sarcastically told her. he would love the red. especially now that you know why you’ve seen her wear it so often.

you screwed off the brush in the bottle, dipping the brush in and slightly wiping off the sides, poised to begin painting, when sarah’s door flew open.

you both startled, looking to the door.

“rafe! don’t you know how to knock? we could’ve been changing in here”

rafe looked to you once sarah said it, glancing back at her just as quickly. your cheeks heated.

“whatever. some pouge is her to talk to you. something about finding a clue.. what are you up to when you’re not at home, sarah?”

you watched sarah roll her eyes in your peripheral, your gaze locked on rafe.

“fine..” she stood from the bed, going to stand at her doorway which rafe was blocking. “you gonna move..?”

rafe continued looking at her, but finally stepped to the side. sarah huffed. “jerk.”

she turned before leaving the room. “i’ll be right back” you went to return her smile, but she was gone before you could muster it.

you slowly twisted the brush back into the bottle, not daring to look up from your lap as you did so.

he was still here..

you placed the bottle aside, waiting for rafe to go back to whatever it was he was doing. as you twiddled your fingers for a few seconds, time counted to a minute, and rafe still hadn’t left.

you looked up. he was already looking at you. you quickly glanced back down. okay..

you heard footsteps move closer, then a body sitting on the bed next to you.

he softly chuckled. “how sarah managed to get you.. quiet, timid you.. to become her friend..? i still don’t know.. and i don’t know if i like it.. i don’t need her corrupting you..”

a hand gripped your chin, forcing your head up when you failed to respond for a moment. “you hear me speaking, don’t you?”

you nodded in his grasp, eyes wide.

“then look up at me and respond, yeah?” he moved your head in a nod. you nodded again.

letting you go, he leaned back on the bed.

“not so chatty as downstairs, hm?.. do i make you ramble, which i don’t think you notice is the cutest thing you do, or do i make you go quiet and draw out those little bambi eyes? both make it hard to focus”

you went to speak, but closed your mouth. now you can’t even decide which you want to do.

rafe tilted his head at you. “if i asked you what boy you were planning on putting that polish on for, would you speak?”

you made a noise. a squeak, perhaps. not really a word.

“what.. what boy..?”

it took you a second to realize the question sounded familiar to the one you asked sarah minutes ago. if she was putting on polish for a boy.

did rafe.. hear that?

he sat up before your mind could wander, picking at the colors in front of you two.

“were you gonna wear this pink?” he held up the bottle. “the one that’s matching what you’re wearing? were you gonna match for some pouge?”

rafe knew you weren’t from over here. you aren’t a kook. your cheeks slightly heated again before you realized. rafe knew you weren’t from over here? you never said anything. you doubt sarah spoke about you to rafe.

he quickly moved again, not letting your brain process things he didn’t need you figuring out.

he tossed the bottle at you. “i mean, go ahead, put it on.. i like that color and i’m gonna be the only one it’s for”

you looked to the bottle in your lap, then to rafe.

“i.. i’m sorry.. there’s no boy.. i wasn’t going to..” you stopped at the look on rafe’s face. yeah, you weren’t fibbing your way out of this one.

you picked up the bottle, hand going to twist the top. rafe’s chuckle stopped you. you looked up to see him watching your hands, tongue poked in his cheek.

“you’d do anything i tell you, huh? like with those cookies? you’d bake for me? you’d do your hair for me? wear those little doll outfits for me?”

you couldn’t do anything but continue staring at him. it was all you’ve wanted. rafe actually noticing you. but you couldn’t focus on anything but his voice, listening for the next command.

his hand shot out to grip your chin again, shaking your head in a nod. “yes, rafe” he spoke for you.

you nodded again without his hand moving you. “yes rafe, i will..”

rafe smirked, letting go. “put it on.. you know you were gonna do it for me, s’okay..” rafe’s sudden soft tone calmed your nerves.

“i like the things you do for me.. i like that you think about me. even when you’re putting on clothes.. do you get frustrated and think rafe wouldn’t like that? ‘cause i would. i’d like anything you wear..”

your fingers were slightly trembling as you applied the polish.

“what else do you think about.. what goes on in that pretty little head of yours?.. do you want me to go first?”

you quickly glanced up. rafe.. thought about you?

he smirked at your response. “but.. i can’t scare you away.. i just got you”

got you. scare you. what was he implying..

you heard him tsk. “you’re making a mess kid, come on” he voice took on an annoyed edge. your attention drew back down to your nails. a little polish started to run down your finger.

you went to wipe it away when rafe grabbed your hand, doing it himself.

“you’re always making messes. dropping things.. i mean, what would you do if i wasn’t here? make a mess of yourself and not know what to do?” he sounded slightly angry.

you looked down bashfully.

“so it’s a good thing i’m here, right? because you’re a messy little thing who can’t even think for herself. you think for me, don’t you?”

you nodded before rafe finished his sentence. you finished up the polish, setting it aside.

he grabbed your hands, angling them toward himself. “so small..” he muttered to himself, almost like he wasn’t meaning for you to hear.

he looked up at you, catching you off guard. “so that’s how i get you quiet? your little head goes quiet, waiting for me to tell it what to think?”

you blinked up at him. rafe chuckled. “but i need you to use your words.. it’s all for me, right? your little doll look and thoughts? you? you’re all for me?”

you went to nod, but remembered to speak. “yes, rafe.”

he nodded at you. “i know.”

he dropped your hands when footsteps sounded up the stairs. you heard sarah huff, drawing your attention to her and off of rafe. “it was just jj.. he took forever explaining his genius plan to get the..”

she halted when she saw you both. “rafe, what are you doing in here with her? get out, weirdo”

rafe pushed from the bed, making his way out. he looked back at you, then to sarah. “whatever, i got what i wanted”

he left the room.

sarah sighed. “he is so annoying” she shut the door again, settling back on the bed besides you.

“yeah..” you agreed.

sarah slightly frowned. “you alright? he didn’t say anything weird to you, right?”

“yeah.. no. no, he didn’t say anything..”

sarah shrugged, moving to grab the red nail polish.

not anything you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about.

[tinythebunni]

not an ask but i always love to see neurodivergent writers (i'm autistic!) love ur page sm!!! ur works are fantastic

aww thank you so much!!!

[tinythebunni]

thinking about overstimulating Clark Kent!

Clark had always been strict with his morals. he knew what was wrong and right and tried very hard not to stray from that path. he wouldn’t even kill a spider in his room, simply letting it out the window and onto a tree. i guess you could say he was a goody two shoes.

He’s been used to girls fawning over him but he never paid much attention. he feared what would happen if someone noticed his inhuman like abilities. or what if he got too excited kissing someone and he accidentally lasered their eyes out?

Clark kept to himself and never tried to date. it was as if he was uninterested in it entirely.

you took this as a challenge though. you met him at the daily planet, around end of March. you were a cute little thing, almost 5’11, his ideal height for a girlfriend. he loved the tall girls as he himself was almost 6’6.

dressed in pink and white skimpy outfits, heels that could break someone’s neck, and a glare comparable to his heat vision. everything about you made him nervous. he couldn’t figure out why you had this effect on him, but he knew he needed to stay away from you. before he broke his own rules.

you always said hai to him and batted your lashes in a way that would make his cheeks flush and his dick twitch is his oh so cute slacks!

he couldn’t seem to get away from the overwhelming smell of your vanilla cupcake perfume and the slight smell of arousal that came from you everytime he was around.

it was like you were his own personal nightmare.

it took around 3 month for him to crack, for him to finally say yes to your dates that always had an innuendo to them. he couldn’t tell though, he thought maybe if he went on a date with you that it would end his torment. but he was so wrong.

—————-

“wait, p-please slow down! fuck-i can’t take it!!“ he moaned out, forehead slick with sweat. you had Clark undressed , with only his tie and white socks on. he looked so cute and innocent like this.

you were riding him, your cunt gripping him like a vice. you could feel his balls hitting your ass as you bounced up and down, the feeling only spurring you on more.

his heels were digging into the mattress of the shitty motel room you dragged him to. with each movement of your hips he seemed to slide down further on the bed, but your feet kept him grounded there, making sure he didn’t fall.

“i can’t, bunny please! f-fuck needyouneedyou” he whimpered out through moans, his hands trying to lift you off of him. you moved your hand to rest on his neck, your perfectly manicured claws forcing him to lay back down. he didn’t notice the strange amount of strength you had, nor the way your eyes flashed white for a second. “stop trying to run from me clarkie! jus-oh god, take it like a good boy. i know you can.”

the smile you gave him seemed almost sinister, as you sped up and kept him down. he cried out, hopelessly trying to pry you off him and keep you close all at the same time. you leaned down and licked the sheen off his chest, taking your time over his pink raw nipples.

his tongue lolled out his mouth, eyes glazing over and body getting increasingly more and more warm. your hand reached down to grip his balls in grip almost painful to him, tugging and massaging as he writhed underneath you. moaning out pleas that fell on deaf ears, he came inside of you, plugging you up nice and full.

he thought you’d finally stop, he’d already came 3 times and he was sure he had nothing left in him, but you leaned down, muffling his moans that slowly turned into wails. “waitwait! i came, mmm pl-please i can’t! it hurts! gimme a break, jus 5 minutes!” the overstimulation had him turning dumb. mind fuzzy in ways that only he knew kryptonite could do. it was almost supernatural.

you pulled him up into a sitting position, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer, you kept fucking him deeper and deeper inside of you, chasing your own release. your hands were surely leaving dents in his back with how sharp your nails were.

shaking and spasming, you looked at him with blown pupils and a wicked smile, staring him in the eyes before you bite into his neck as you came all over him.

he was scared, understandably, as no one usually was able to penetrate his skin, but that was taken over by the immense amount of pleasure he felt after the bite. the slight warmth as you let go and kept grinding yourself down on him, overstimulating yourself. he looked down at were you were connected and saw the creamy white ring around his cock, dripping down his balls. he finally came for the last time with a dying out moan as he blacked out.

————————

when he finally came to, he was back in his apartment, in a nice robe clean and perfectly manicured, as if last night never happened. the only indication that it did? the mark on his neck and the note you left for him.

“i enjoyed last night, ill see you at work superboy! oh, and make sure to cover up that bite, don’t want anyone asking questions do you?”

[tinythebunni]

thinking of rafe cameron helping you to fall asleep

the gentle hum of the air conditioning was the only sound breaking the silence of the bedroom. you lay sprawled on your side, staring at the digital clock on the nightstand. 2:47 am. you groaned softly, turning onto your back, frustrated with your inability to fall asleep for the third night in a row.

beside you, rafe stirred. his golden hair was tousled, and his breathing had been deep and even—until now. his arm slid across your stomach, pulling you closer.

“baby,” he mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep. “what’s wrong? you keep moving.”

you hesitated. you hadn’t wanted to wake him up. “sorry. i just… i can’t sleep.”

he propped himself up on one elbow, concern flickering in his blue eyes even in the dim light. “again?”

you nodded, biting your lip. “i don’t know what’s wrong. i feel tired, but the moment i lie down, my brain won’t shut up.”

rafe frowned thoughtfully, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing specific. it’s like my thoughts are just… spinning.”

he sighed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “okay, let me help. stay here.”

before you could protest, he was out of bed and heading toward the kitchen. a moment later, he returned with a glass of milk and handed it to you. “drink this. sometimes it helps.”

you accepted the glass, smiling softly at his effort. “thanks, baby.”

once you set it down, rafe climbed back into bed and pulled you into his arms, resting your head on his chest. his fingers began tracing soothing patterns on your back.

“close your eyes,” he murmured. “focus on my voice. i’ll talk you to sleep.”

you chuckled softly, though you did as he said. “what are you going to talk about?”

“anything that keeps your mind off whatever’s bothering you,” he replied. “like… remember that trip we took to the bahamas last summer? the sunset on the beach, how you made us walk to the prettiest sight just to get the perfect photo? you looked so happy then.”

the memory made you smile. “yeah, that was a good day.”

“exactly,” he said, his voice low and steady. “think about that. the sound of the waves, the sand under your feet, the warmth of the sun on your face.”

his words painted the scene vividly in your mind, and the tension in your body began to melt away. rafe continued, his voice like a lullaby, recounting favorite moments, funny stories, and little things he loved about you.

before you knew it, your breathing had slowed, and your thoughts were no longer spinning. you felt yourself sinking into the comfort of his arms, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a cocoon.

“rafe,” you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“yeah, princess?”

“thank you.”

he kissed the top of your head, his hand still stroking your back. “always, sweet girl. just sleep now. i’ve got you.”

and with that, you finally drifted off, safe and sound in the arms of the one person who could always make everything better.

MASTERLIST

[tinythebunni]

Me and that one older man (he doesn't exist)

[tinythebunni]

Can I get petite reader x rafe with size difference and some holiday vibes?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p + v, raunchy humor,

Do not let the banner fool you into thinking this is Rafe x OC — it’s not. I just likes the aesthetic of Sabrina’s pictures and her little dress

—

Ipad in hand and hair rollers on, you went over everything in the house, making sure all the preparations for tonight were done. It was your first time hosting a Christmas dinner, and you wanted it to be perfect, knowing Rose would nitpick on the smallest things. You wanted your father to ask for a second serving of turkey, and your mother to compliment the wrapping paper under your massive Christmas tree. For Sarah to tell you how delicious your Grinch cookies were— 

‘’The wine! Can you ask Sarah if she got the wine your father likes? I thought we had a bottle left, but I can’t find any,’’ you asked Rafe, who was coming down the stairs after his shower, freshly shaved and smelling strongly on the cologne you loved. 

He hummed, pulling out his phone and sending his sister a quick text. ‘’Anything else, baby?’’ 

Eyes still on the list, most of the dots were checked. ‘’Can you get the fancy wine glasses down from the top cabinet? I can’t reach them.’’

‘’Can’t reach very high when you’re three apples tall,’’ Rafe teased, an amused smirk at the corner of his lips. 

You glared at him. ‘’I’m not three apples tall! I’m regular sized.’’ 

It wasn’t true, and you both knew it. You were just about Wheezie’s height — who was thirteen years old. 

Rafe chuckled at your reaction and went to the kitchen for the wine glasses. He reached the top cabinet and grabbed the glasses with ease, handing the first four to you. He brought the other fours to the counter where you had placed the wine opener. 

Then, you disappeared back to the living room and up the stairs to finish your hair, seeing as there was only an hour before your parents would arrive. Rafe followed and watched you standing in front of the mirror of your ensuite bathroom in your small red and white festive dress, which was driving him crazy. The way it hugged your body and made you look like a little doll in a Christmas outfit. He didn’t think he would love that childish looking dress when he saw it on the hanger — he compared it to one of Sarah’s when she was little —, but now he wanted nothing more than to flip the skirt up and take you right there.

‘’At what time is it acceptable to kick everyone out?’’ he asked, already looking forward to being alone with you. 

‘’Don’t be a Grinch, Rafe. No one has arrived yet,’’ you warned as you took out another one of the rollers. Your hair was so bouncy and pretty. You’ll need to ask Sarah to take nice pictures of you and Rafe so you can hang them in the house.

Rafe shook his head. ‘’I’m not being a Grinch. I just really want to fuck you in that dress,’’ he said casually, making a smile bloom across your lips. His smirk grew into a cocky grin, and he continued. ‘’I was thinking under the tree?’’ he began, his voice low and full of desire. ‘’So you can be my little present that I get to unwrap. Or, in front of the fireplace like they do in movies. What do you think?’’ 

You put down your last roller, and grabbed the hairspray and brush to smooth everything a little. ‘’I think…that you should get dressed. Can’t welcome our guests in sweatpants.’’

Although you moved into this house last November, you and Rafe had yet to host a holiday dinner. The Camerons rented a nice cabin last Christmas — as they did every year. You went skiing, and ice skating with Sarah and Wheezie. And Thanksgiving was spent at your parents’ — your mother loved Thanksgiving. 

‘’Alright,’’ Rafe replied, eyeing his clean pants and a crisp button up you had priorly set nicely on the bed. 

He was perfectly capable of picking his clothes and dressing nicely, but the nerves of hosting had you searching through his closet and picking what he would wear for tonight. 

When you were both ready, you went back downstairs. Your father had called saying he was going to run a little late due to a closed road and traffic. Moving to Charleston after college had been difficult for them. They assumed that you would come back home, and instead you bought a house seven hours away from them.  

‘’Rafe, I said no,’’ you repeated, avoiding Rafe’s grasp.

He was faster than you, quickly catching you when you walked by the couch. He wrapped his arms around your hips and pulled you closer to him, leaning down to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. ‘’But you said your parents would be late. Come on, baby. Just a quick one?’’

You shook your head, dodging his kisses. ‘’Rafe…’’

The offer was tempting. It didn’t help that he smelled good and looked so damn hot in his white button up. 

‘’You're not being fair,’’ he retorted, chuckling darkly. ‘’Walking around in that tiny dress. Look what you did to me,’’ Rafe pressed his tented pants to your ass. ‘’I can’t welcome your parents with this rock hard beast in my pants. How inappropriate would that be?’’

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out as he pressed the evidence of his arousal against you. ‘’That’s your problem.’’ 

He grinned, leaning down to steal a kiss, his lips brushing your glossy ones just enough to send a shiver down your spine. ‘’Not my fault you look so damn good in that dress.’’ 

‘’Horn-dog,’’ you muttered, trying to hide your smile.

‘’Around you? Always.’’ 

You laughed again, but it was cut short by a squeal when your feet left the floor and Rafe threw you over his shoulder in one fluid motion. Your skirt rode up, exposing even more of your thighs as you wriggled awkwardly over his shoulder. Rafe chuckled, his hand coming to smack your exposed ass cheek. 

Rafe set you down on the divan, which turned out to be one of your favorite furniture purchases. Who would have thought that a couch could be convenient for so many different sex positions? 

''You gonna fill my stocking?'' you asked, looking up at Rafe with sparkling eyes and glossy lips. For the sake of being naughty, you lifted the skirt of your dress, flashing your red panties. They were small, and not hiding much. 

That made Rafe groan, his gaze roamed your body with a hungry gleam in his eyes that made it clear how much he wanted you. ''Fuck,'' he mumbled in a low, gruff voice, hurriedly unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. ‘’You been walking around like that all this time?’’ 

You grinned in response. ‘’I’m on the naughty list, aren’t I?’’ 

‘’Top of the fucking naughty list, yeah,’’ Rafe agreed, rubbing himself over his tight boxers. His eyes caught the gold ‘R’ around your neck, glistening from the twinkling lights of the tree. He had never seen anything more beautiful. 

You lowered your eyes to his crotch, knowing what was underneath. ''Boy, I think that package is too big to gift wrap.'' 

Rafe chuckled at your comment, a cocky smile playing on his lips. Your raunchy sense of humor being one of his favorite things about you — spontaneous, sharp, and just the right balance of cheeky and bold without crossing into vulgarity. It kept him on his toes, always guessing what you'd say next, and he loved every second of it.

You shuddered when Rafe’s cock entered you, squeezing through your tight walls and filling you up. He had one knee on the divan, right between yours, and gripped your hips as he pounded into you, panties pulled to the side. Your red fingernails were digging into the back of his biceps and shoulder, anchoring you to him. 

A quick fuck, he said. 

Your head lulled as your arousal built, your orgasm threatening to come as sounds of pleasure left your lips. Rafe’s hips picked up the pace, reaching between your bodies to toy with your clit. The ‘magic button’, as he called it. 

As if Santa was watching and purposely unleashed a curse of Christmas on you and Rafe, the doorbell went off, echoing through the house just as you came around Rafe’s cock with a cry that must have been heard on the other side of the front door. On top of you, Rafe growled into your neck as he released ropes of cum inside you.

The doorbell echoed again, and Rafe laughed. 

‘’Oh my god,’’ you panicked, trying to catch your breath. 

You flipped back the bottom of your dress and stood, quickly closing and clenching your legs when you felt something dripping between your thighs. You couldn’t welcome the guests like that…

You glared at Rafe, who was tucking himself back into his boxers and pants, and very much amused by the situation. ‘’This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this.’’ 

—

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[tinythebunni]

older rafe and his disgustingly young gf!

Rafe was a busy, busy man. He was the CEO of a company so he was constantly busy. He still had to take care of his little sister Wheezie, but with his busy schedule he just couldn’t!

which is where you came in. Rafe hired you to babysit Wheezie while he worked his shifts. you only ever had a real conversation with Rafe during the interview. You were so nervous and panting because he just kept gazing at you in ways that made you feel all hot and bothered!

it didn’t help the shirt you wore was basically bursting at the seems! you took it to a dry cleaners the day before but they screwed up. :( Rafe couldn’t keep his eyes off you, palming himself throughout the whole interview. Using all of his willpower to stop from jumping over the table and fucking you right there. his questions were a bit redundant but he needed to keep himself calm. He knew he had to have you, so he hired you on the spot and that was that!

You rarely saw Rafe, only getting a few short glimpses before he left for work in the morning! when your babysitting was over he would come home, pay you, and walk upstairs without a word. it made you a lil upset, did he just not want you anymore? you knew the interview wasn’t just your imagination.

but what you didn’t know is that he did want you. so fucking bad. he had to rush up the stairs so he wouldn’t act on his impulses. but it was just so fucking hard with the skirts you wore and the pretty lashes that made every blink you took look like you were begging.

he had to get away from you as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t ruin what little respect you probably had for him.

eventually you got tired of it and just wanted him, regardless of the punishment. you started calling him Mr. Cameron and pushing him for small talk. everytime he responded you’d look up at him with your doe eyes and hands behind your back. pushing your chest out just a little bit and appearing submissive for him. you knew how men worked!

he got antsy very very quickly. Rafe loved how eager to please you looked, how dumb and fuckable you seemed to get when he was around. but he couldn’t ruin you. touching you in every way he wanted could ruin his reputation, but honestly he didn’t care anymore.

Rafe came home late one day, a hard meeting with an asshole CEO of another company ending in a yelling match, and having to come home just to remember Wheezie was at a friends house.

He thought you’d be gone by now, considering there was nothing left for you to do. but he was so fucking wrong. Rafe walked into the kitchen, looking for his bourbon. after pouring himself a glass, he walked into the dining room just to see you on the floor cleaning up.

the clothes you were in didn’t help, they fit you like a glove and leaved almost nothing to the imagination. you had on a tiny pink skirt, a lacy top with buttons down to the hem, and one of his jackets on.

you looked up, a smirk almost rising to your lips, but you knew you had to keep the act up.

“oh my! ‘m so sorry Mr. Cameron! i was trying to clean up the house for you but i broke a glass. and it was so cold i thought maybe it would be okay if i wore your jacket but i can-“

“shut the fuck up.” Rafe snapped. all patience lost. he took of his coat and unbuttoned his cuffs. you went to stand up but he stopped you.

“did i tell you to get up?” you shook your head, letting it drop back down. “exactly, stay on the fucking floor”

you clasped your hands in your lap, gazing down. Rafe circled around you as if to figure out his next move, while you tried not to make one.

“do you think this is funny? teasing me and practically whoring yourself out just to see if i’ll finally touch you?” you glanced up, wanting to explain yourself but he stopped you.

“eyes down. or you’ll be leaving here high and dry without my hands on you.” you listened to his every word, wanting nothing less than to please him so you could get exactly what you wanted.

Rafe walked over to a chair at the head of the table and sat down. he spread his legs and slouched, allowing yourself to see the bulge poking out of his dress pants. “come here.” he whispered. you hesitated for a second, before moving to stand once more.

“Jesus fucking Christ, how many times do i have to say don’t fucking stand up. i want you to crawl like the needy puppy you are.”

crawling over to him, you tried your best to keep your head down and stay quiet. you whimpered only slightly when you realized how dirty your knees must be.

Rafe lifted your head by placing his thumb under your chin. he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips. you moved closer, eager to get more of him, but he didn’t let you.

he shoved you back, landing on your palms with your chest pushed in the air. Rafe slowly unbuckled his pants, pulling off his belt. he stood up and grabbed you with ease, placing you on his lap and sitting down.

“c’mon baby take what you need. i’ll be nice from now on, swear.”

you nodded eagerly, unzipping his pants and pulling him out of his boxers. his tip was a flushed shade of pink, the slightest bit of precum leaking from the head.

completely losing your confident facade from early and stuttering only slightly you stroked him slowly, watching as his head tilted back in pleasure.

“can i suck you off please? wanna taste you!” you pleaded, cheeks flushed with need.

“nah baby, wanna cum inside you. just lemme fuck you first and we’ll see about that afterwards.” he mumbled, tapping your hips twice to get you to lift up.

he moved your panties to the side, sliding inside you without any warning. the pain was pleasurable and uncomfortable at the same time.

the first few movements of yours were slow, with him not almost as if he was still hesitant. still gripping onto the last little bit of decorum he had. but the second you let out that sickeningly sweet moan right by his ear, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Rafe grabbed your hips fucking up into without a care in the world. you moaned out loud, echoing through the house. tears welled in your eyes from the sheer pleasure Rafe was giving you. he moved his left hand to arch your back onto his chest, forcing his cock deeper into you.

“n-need you to cum first pup, don’t care about nutting right now. wanna feel ‘ya, fuck, cumming around my tip!”

you could only nod your head, the slightest bit of drool dripping out of your mouth. Rafe watched it fall, licking it up and moaning at the taste of you. he was so fucking gross.

“pleasepleaseplease baby, lemme kiss you”he mumbled against your lips, pressing closer and closer as he awaited your response. you were so fucked out you could barely respond!

he slapped your cheek, thrusting inside you with hard fast strokes, jackhammering into you.

“words baby, use them”

you whined out a yes and pressed your lips to his, surely bruising them.

Rafe snuck a hand around your front to press his thumb to your clit, putting pressure on it before rubbing it in circles. the hand he kept on your hip made its way up to your neck, choking you in the best way.

the difficulty and strain of not being able to breathe fully made your eyes roll to the back of your head. you could barely think with the lack of oxygen reaching your brain. Rafe watched as your eyes glazed over, smirking when he saw you wheeze out a whimper. loosening his grip only slightly, he pulled you closer to him.

“cum for me in the next 10 seconds or you won’t be able to breathe until i’m done.” he whispered in your ear.

starting the countdown, he watched as your hips met his every thrust. by the time he got to 6 you were ready to black out, but that rush of euphoria hit and you spasmed on top of him.

your back arched, a scream combined with a moan wrenching itself out of your throat.

the strength of your orgasm making you slump against him, coaxing his orgasm as he saw how pliant you became against him.

he rubbed your back, kissing up your neck as he let you fall asleep and letting your whole body become relaxed. Rafe patted down your ruffled hair and stayed inside of you, letting his cum plug you up. you were gonna be his forever.

[tinythebunni]

ugh rafe being disgusting and degrading during sex?? #needthat neeeeedd neeeeed that!!! ^3^ need him to be so mean in bed

cw > mean!rafe, degrading, rough sex, and other disgusting rafe things ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

“move y’r fuckin’ hand,” rafe hissed from above you, slapping your hand away from his abdomen— stopping your attempts to slow him down as you sobbed.

you don’t know what you did to piss him off so bad — he had been on edge all day, and all you did was ask if he was okay, and he just snapped.

“m’ sorry! m’ sorry, i–i am!” you hiccuped, writhing beneath him as he fucked you as if you meant nothing to him, his hands gripping your waist hard enough it’ll bruise.

he scoffed, reaching up one of his hands and slapping you across the face harshly, making you whine and touch the burning mark. he leant down, getting in your face.

“‘don’t give a shit if y’r sorry, a’ight? shut the fuck up.” he covered your mouth with his large hand, practically engulfing the entire lower half of your face.

“y’know you’re just here for me to use, yeah?” he asked while you clawed at his skin, nearly nose to nose with you — as if he was trying to intimidate you.

he felt your pussy clench around him, a new flood of wetness making a white ring form around the base of his thick cock that was driving into you.

he scoffed, scrunching his nose like he was disgusted at you — eyes narrowing like he was judging you.

“you like that? huh? y’r that much of a slut that — that you’re lettin’ me use you?” he pushed his hand harder against your skin, fingers digging into your cheeks.

you nodded with a pathetic whine, legs shaking as your hips twitched away from him, but your cunt clenched around him so tightly it pulled him closer.

he groaned, removing his hand to rest it beside your head to support him, looking down at where his cock was sliding in and out of you with ease, watching you stretch around him.

“dirty bitch,” he almost laughed, eyes narrowing at the way your neglected clit throbbed.

you cried, nails clawing down his chest and making him hiss in pain, snatching your wrists in one hand and shoving them away from him.

“don’t cry. you were beggin’ for this, pissin’ me off the whole day.” he huffed under his breath, not even looking up at you.

“it h–hurts!” you cried, tears streaming down your face and lips pulling into a pout, reaching out to hold him; which he begrudgingly let you.

“yeah? good. y’deserve this. so, uh, i don’t care if it hurts — shut the fuck up and take it.” he growled, groaning a little at the way your pussy spasmed around him.

you pulled him closer, placing shaky kisses across his cheek as you whined and moaned. he’ll admit — he nearly softened. nearly.

“i love you, i love you. love you s’much.” you repeated frantically as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“oh my godd,” he groaned in exasperation, hand going to your face and pushing it into the pillow. “shut uuup.”

[tinythebunni]

[tinythebunni]

RAFE CAMERON - paired up together

quarterback!extroverted jock x shy!introverted!FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: soft!rafe cameron

your mom and dad always had a vision for you, one that didn’t exactly include self-defense classes. when you were younger, they signed you up for piano lessons, art workshops, and just about anything that didn’t involve sweat or the possibility of a sprained ankle. they didn’t want you to feel weak, of course, but they thought strength came from different things—discipline, refinement, skill.

“you don’t need to learn to throw punches,” your mom would say. “you need discipline. structure. music.”

so you’re not exactly the strongest person in the world, but you’re not weak either. you’ve got your limits, sure, but you also like to think you can handle yourself if you absolutely had to. you’re just hoping today isn’t one of those days.

as you walk with your best friend to PE, the two of you are mid-gossip, laughing at something she said about the latest drama in your grade.

“and then she had the nerve to say my dress was last season, when hers looked like it came out of her grandma’s attic,” lana says, flipping her hair dramatically.

you snort. “maybe she was going for vintage?”

“vintage?” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “there’s a difference between vintage and… tragic.”

the conversation carries you all the way to the gym, where your PE teacher, coach davis, claps his hands together and gets everyone’s attention.

“alright, listen up!” he booms, his voice echoing off the walls. “today, we’re starting a self-defense unit. and before anyone complains, let me just say—you’re gonna thank me later. trust me.”

there’s a murmur of interest and maybe a little dread from the class. you glance around and spot the football team—rafe cameron and topper thornton in the corner—leaning against the wall like they’re above it all. rafe’s tossing a football between his hands absentmindedly, while topper’s saying something that makes him smirk.

“of course they’re here,” lana mutters, following your gaze, looking at each football player.

“at least we’re not getting paired with them,” you whisper back, half-joking.

lana shakes her head, “i feel like you just jinxed us.”

you look at her, “no, you just jinxed us by saying that i jinxed us.”

she looks at you with a confused face, “you’re not even making sense, like at all.”

“whatever, they're football players, it would be weird if we were paired with them,” you raised your shoulders.

coach davis goes on to explain the basics of the class, ending with the bombshell: “you’re gonna be partnered up for these drills. i’ll call out the pairs.”

your friend groans dramatically. “if it’s not them then i’m gonna get stuck with someone who doesn’t even know how to hold a fist properly.”

“maybe it’ll be me,” you say, grinning.

“please,” she shoots back. “you’re not hopeless. you’re just… delicate.”

before you can defend yourself, coach starts calling out pairs. when he says your best friend’s name, followed by topper’s, her jaw drops.

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispers, shooting you a look. “like i said, you jinxed us.”

“at least he’s strong?” you offer, barely holding back a laugh.

“and annoying.” she sighs, but there’s a faint pink tinge to her cheeks as she walks over to topper.

then coach calls your name.

“you’re with rafe cameron.”

your stomach drops. you glance up to find rafe already looking at you, his eyebrows slightly raised, the smirk replaced by something unreadable.

“great,” you mutter under your breath, grabbing your water bottle and making your way over.

the self-defense gym class is not exactly your idea of a good time. the thought of being paired up with anyone, let alone someone like rafe cameron—quarterback, golden boy, cute jock extraordinaire—makes you want to melt into the floor. but when coach calls your name, followed by his, there’s no escaping it.

you shuffle over to him, clutching your water bottle, avoiding his eyes. rafe, on the other hand, stands there looking like he’s just been told he won the lottery, but he’s trying way too hard to play it cool.

“guess we’re partners,” he says, a little too brightly, flashing that easy grin of his. it’s the kind of smile that probably works on everyone else, but you just nod and mumble, “yeah, okay.”

the first drill is basic—a wrist grab escape.

“so,” he starts, dropping the football to the ground and kicking it aside, “here’s the plan. i’ll go easy on you, obviously. i mean, i’m not gonna, like, actually grab you or anything. just… enough so you can practice the moves. sound good?”

you blink at him, unsure what to say. he’s talking fast, like he’s trying to fill the silence before it even has a chance to settle.

“and if you’re not sure about something, just tell me,” he continues, his hands gesturing animatedly. “i’ve, uh, done some of this stuff before. kind of, you know… for football and stuff.” he scratches the back of his neck, like that explains everything.

“okay,” you say softly, nodding.

he hesitates for a moment, like he’s waiting for you to say more, but when you don’t, he shifts awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“cool. yeah. uh… so, you wanna start with the wrist grab thing?” he asks, his voice a little higher than usual.

“sure,” you reply, your tone neutral.

he stares at you for a second longer, then clears his throat and rubs his hands together. “alright. this’ll be easy. just… pretend I’m the bad guy or something.”

you glance up at him briefly, your lips twitching into the smallest of smiles. “okay, bad guy.”

his laugh is sudden, almost startled, like he didn’t expect you to say that. he recovers quickly, though, his grin softening into something less forced.

“alright, let’s do this,” he says, stepping a little closer. you try not to focus on how tall he is, how he seems to take up all the space around you.

the first few exercises are awkward, to say the least. rafe has to grab your wrist in what’s supposed to be a firm hold, and you’d have to fumble your way through the escape technique. it’s not perfect, but it’s good enough to get the drill going.

the two of you are both way too aware of each other. the awkwardness of it all makes the air feel heavier, and there’s this strange, bubbling tension that neither of you knows how to shake. rafe’s grip on your wrist is a little too firm at first, and you instinctively yank it out of his hold too quickly, which makes you both pause and look at each other for a second.

there’s a beat of silence, and then rafe’s face cracks into a grin. “uh… yeah, you’re definitely supposed to slowly pull away,” he says, his voice a little too bright for the situation.

you blink at him, your face flushing. “sorry, I—uh—I panicked.”

he lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “it’s fine. we’re just trying this out.”

you can’t help but feel embarrassed, your cheeks heating up under his gaze. you didn’t think self-defense could be this awkward, but the whole thing is kind of ridiculous. the movements feel so stiff and uncoordinated, and you can tell rafe is trying way too hard to hide his laughter.

“okay,” you mutter, looking anywhere but at him. “let’s try again.”

this time, rafe tries to go easy on you, adjusting his stance, but as soon as he grabs your wrist again, there’s a moment of hesitation, and both of you burst into suppressed giggles. it’s just too silly—the way you’re both standing there, pretending to fight, looking like absolute amateurs.

you can’t stop the laughter from slipping out, and the sound is so unexpected that it catches you off guard. your face burns, and you quickly cover it with your hand, hoping no one notices how flustered you are.

“okay, okay,” rafe says between laughs, still holding your wrist but clearly fighting to keep himself together. his heart is racing, not from the physical exertion of the exercises, but from the way he can’t seem to focus on anything except how adorable you look when you laugh. “we’re, uh, doing great, right?”

you can’t even meet his eyes. your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. “yeah, definitely.”

but rafe’s heart is thundering in his chest, too loud for him to ignore. he’s never been this nervous during a drill, not even when he’s throwing a football in front of a crowd. everything about this is making his insides do flip-flops, and he can’t understand why.

the two of you keep going through the exercises, but the laughter doesn’t stop. each time rafe grabs your wrist, or you try to make an escape, there’s this shared, silent understanding between the two of you. it’s ridiculous. it’s awkward. and it’s perfect.

he notices the way your hands shake slightly, how your eyes keep darting away from his, and it just makes him want to laugh even more. it’s so real, so raw, in a way he’s never felt before. he doesn’t know why, but he can’t seem to stop thinking about you.

“you’re doing fine,” he says softly after a while, his voice unusually gentle. “really. don’t worry about it.”

you nod, barely able to form words as you keep your gaze firmly on the floor. he wants to say something else, but the words get stuck in his throat. it’s strange—this is strange. something about the way you make him feel like he’s in way over his head, and it’s making his heart race faster than he can keep up with.

coach davis started droning on about the next exercise, something about how to escape a bear hug or tackle or whatever, but you’re not really listening. you’re too busy trying to get the next move right, shifting your weight awkwardly, wondering if your face is as hot as it feels.

what you are aware of, though, is the way rafe is looking at you. his gaze is soft, but it doesn’t feel casual—it’s more intense than it should be, like he's lost in a thought you’re not a part of. every time you glance at him, he’s still staring, his lips slightly parted like he’s about to say something but can’t quite figure out what.

you don’t notice how long he’s been staring, how he’s not paying attention to coach davis at all, but lana does.

she’s standing a few feet away with topper, listening half-heartedly to the coach’s explanation while she watches you both from the corner of her eye. when she sees rafe’s gaze fixed on you, her eyebrow raises, the corners of her lips curling up in a mischievous grin.

“no way,” she mutters to topper, who’s clearly more interested in trying not to sweat than anything happening in the class.

lana shifts closer to you, nudging your shoulder gently. “okay, seriously, are you two going to pretend like nothing is happening here?” she whispers, her voice laced with amusement.

you barely hear her, focused on the way rafe shifts his weight, trying to act casual, but you don’t miss the glint in his eyes.

“what are you talking about?” you ask, still trying to concentrate on what coach davis is saying.

“girl,” she says, almost too loudly, making you blush even harder, “you’ve got mr. quarterback staring at you like you’re the only thing in this gym. i swear, you’re not even paying attention, and he’s over here practically drooling.”

you blink at her, confused, your face going even hotter. you glance over at rafe quickly, thinking you’re imagining it, but—no. he’s still looking at you, and the moment your eyes meet, his expression shifts from uncertainty to something else, something you can’t quite figure out.

and then, like a punch to the gut, you finally pull your gaze from him, letting your eyes fall to the floor like you’re trying to escape from the intensity of the moment.

lana catches the look, then smirks, nudging you again. “i’m not crazy. he’s definitely into you. like, definitely. look at him—he’s not even pretending to pay attention anymore.”

you try to focus on something else—anything else—but you feel the weight of his gaze still on you, like he’s looking right through you. it makes your chest tighten, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him again.

“stop,” you whisper harshly, though you don’t even know why you’re saying it.

lana just giggles, her eyes lighting up like she’s holding onto some great secret. “i’m just saying, girl. you’re killing him right now.”

meanwhile, rafe, clueless about what’s going on between the two of you, is still struggling to keep his composure. his heart is racing even faster now, and all he can think about is how you’re just standing there, not noticing what he’s feeling—he’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed by that. all he knows is that he can’t seem to look away from you.

rafe exhales slowly, trying to ground himself, even though it feels impossible.

[tinythebunni]

WHAT YOUR CAMERA ROLL LOOKS LIKE DATING… — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: personal face claims ノ arm kink ノ sexual content ノ established relationship ノ fem reader ノ squirting ノ nudes mention.

CLARK KENT is still a little hesitant to show his face in photos. It’s not the same if you two are taking a picture together, he’s always happy to be in one with you… but selfies seem to be a foreign concept to him. He tries for your sake because he knows you screenshot and save them, so he puts in some effort. Even though he’s cuffed you, he still wants to look nice for you.

You’ve taught him a lot about taking pictures, always insisting that you want to see him, implying parts of him that he never thought he’d show a camera. Nudes might be off the table, but you’ve gotten him to cross the line of showing off his body. He tries to hide it, but he’s got a six pack worth bragging about. Chiseled and tall, he’s a regular Adonis, and he always laughs when you make the same joke about “riding your phone” after he sends a message with his shirt off. It’s hard to boast it proudly with a full shirtless image, but he covers up just enough to keep you wanting more.

If he’s out on the go, hand pics are the norm. He won’t deny it, he knows you like them. You decorate them with bracelets you buy for him, and massage his hands, wrists, and arms as often as you can. You tell him you’ve got a fixation. You suck on his fingers, and you always ask him to show you how he curls his knuckles when they’re inside of you, stroking your guts until you come undone and squirt pours down his veins… and sometimes when you’re in a special mood, you ask him to flex and rub whatever he can shove between your legs even if that means cumming all over his swollen bicep. He might get a little sheepish taking a picture of his arm so nonchalantly knowing what you’ve done to it, and what you might be thinking being reminded of it. It’s deceptive, maybe, but he won’t lie and say he’s hoping you’re in need of a little friction when he sees you next.

[tinythebunni]

a/n: this is inspired by my glasses because they kept sliding down while i was reading

“and i tried to explain to him that that’s not how dna and genetics worked, but he just shrugged me off and went back on his little rant. i mean, why do i even try?” pope rambles. the two of you were currently sat on your bed, your back against the headboard with pope’s head in your lap.

to be totally honest, you weren’t really paying attention to what he was saying. i mean, how could you? not when those beautiful big brown eyes were staring into your soul. your fingers were tangled in his necklace, careful not to break it.

“and then today when i was at the store, some kid bumped into me and nearly knocked me over. didn’t even stop to say excuse me. can you believe that? how are parents raising their kids these days. no respect, at all.” he continues. he was so cute when he rambled on like this.

he kept talking more, either not noticing that your attention wasn’t fully on his words or just simply not caring. however, you are pulled out of your boyfriend-induced daydream when his hand reaches up and readjusts your glasses on your nose. 

“we need to plant some more veggies, we’re running low. we should have room for that in the budget, right?” he asks as he finally looks up at you.

there’s a long pause before your response comes. “you wanna make out?”

“huh?” he asks, sitting up abruptly. you laugh at that, taking off your glasses and setting them aside as you crawl into his lap.

“i said, do you wanna make out?”

“i mean, how could i say no to that?” he asks as he pulls you down so you’re laying on top of him.

@arkofblake @ivysprophecy @murdockcastleslut

[tinythebunni]

my simon riley brain rot is so intense that i put on lip gloss today and i immediately thought of bimbo!reader and simon and her leaving sparkly lip gloss kisses all over simon's face AHHHHH, anyways thank u for blessing us with that series

aww thats so cute 🥹🫶🏼 and omg thank you so much for liking the mini-series!! writing it made me happy for a while and im glad to have been able to share it w you all <33 that said my finger slipped and—

thinkin about doing that pop-pop-pop lip-smacking finish after applying a lipgloss. simon hears that and already knows the drill—phone down, eyes up, and watch as you wrap up with your makeup—and huffs a quiet laugh, fond and achingly soft, when he sees you staring at your reflection while using your acrylics to meticulously swipe at the excess gloss on the corner of your mouth.

you’re adorable, that’s all. just humming to yourself every session, happy to blend away from reality as you get sucked into the beat of your music while laser-focused eyes keep flicking between your makeup bag and your face. he can watch you all day long—and he has, but you noticed him so soon and gave him a shy little giggle.

“not yet!” you whined, hiding behind your palms like simon isn’t a man blessed with a beautiful darling. “look ‘way!”

he did so with another endeared puff of his breaths, and from then on, learned to just rely on the sounds. the tells; the way your quiet hum echoes with the final zip of your makeup bag, giving him just enough time to calm the excitement in his stomach because, and you don’t even know this, simon loves nothing more than to feel your own giddiness resonate as you bounce towards him.

it isn’t any different today—you clamber to him with a giggle, and simon easily pulls you on his lap, his eyes crinkled in his delight.

“y’done, sweetheart?” he asks even when it’s the obvious.

“yup!” you reply, annunciating every letter. you cup his jaw with two hands, soft and flower-scented palms gently cradling his face. “can i kiss you?”

“y’don’t have to ask, love,” he croons and smiles at your excited squeal.

peppering kisses descend on his face, every drag of your lips leaving a sticky sensation but he doesn’t mind them one bit. he will proceed to wear the lipstick stains with pride because god, everyone needs to know how lucky he is to be loved so dearly by you.

the last kiss is a chaste peck on his lips. you pull back but simon whines in disapproval.

“one more,” he grunts, breathing the words directly on your mouth. “i’ve been so patient so i need one more.”

his words tickle a sweet laugh from you. it rings, like chimes and twinkles, before giving him a nod then soft lips meet his again.

simon basks in your warmth, feeling so full of unbridled joy.

[tinythebunni]

https://www.tumblr.com/disgustinggf/766387162976518144?source=share

I want Simon to bully me like this.

OHH MY GOD WIFE YES ABSOLUTELY YESS

simon's so big too, pressing everything on you. in you.

the way simon's bulk shrouds your own ⁠– and you're not even small. petite has never been a word used on you but simon's built like a fucking tank, heavy and wide in all the right places⁠—

just like this, with his cock hammering into you in shorts bursts. all he could do is lay there, on you, humping in your cunt in blunt strokes. he followed your toppling, caging you in the warm press of his flesh until simon is all that you're feeling. all that you're hearing; breathless in his bloating euphoria, grunting in an animalistic heat.

it's not like you're faring any better; choking on your squeals, pussy fluttering because you swear that simon's fucked it raw. fucked it to the point that pain and pleasure have begun to explode in tandem, racing in a matching pace like you're being liquified.

unmade, then remade ⁠– there, on his cock, with all of him pressing on you.

words and colours stopped meaning anything to you as you lay there, carrying the brunt of simon's affections. his love, etched into your very pore as he fills you up with his cum once more; another load to cherish.

it's catastrophic.

it's something that has never been done to you before.

like this, simon's truly ruined you for everyone else.

[tinythebunni]

simon loves crushing you under his weight. he loves the way your breath hitches and when your eyes roll back, and the sting of your nails as they dig into his toned back.

your legs are spread, hips lifted with a pillow as simon plows his meaty cock into you. his weight pressing down and suffocating you deliciously as his mouth presses into yours hungrily.

you can barely breathe, the air being knocked out of your lungs with each thrust of his cock as he eagerly swallows down every little noise that leaves your mouth.

tongue messily gliding against yours as his hips move in a punishing rhythm, his body crushing you into the mattress and you fuckin’ love it.

body bending and arching to feel more of him—to get his cock deeper. desperate pleas of pleasepleaseplease leave your kiss swollen lips as simon hips barely lift, fucking you with hard shallow thrust as his weight sinks over you.

[tinythebunni]

uhm thinking about realizing that you like dbf!price more than some platonic thing when, during some casual party that your parents are hosting, you caught him leaving the guest bathroom with a random girl, his arm thrown around her waist her lipstick smeared all over his lips — she’s claimed him for herself and the jealousy burns down your throat like gin and tonic.

he meets your eyes across the room, nods at you with that curious furrow in his gaze, and you — fuck — you couldn’t even pretend that you’re fine. that you’re unfazed. that you’re not angry with envy, so vitriolic it’s petrifying because you want him.

you want him for yourself.

(john pretends the taste of her cherry lipstick is yours. and god, he knows this is wrong, but—

you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had. and he wants more.)