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⬫ ׄ ꪆ୧ ׅ ⬫ ੭੭ ݂ 20. ( Alina ) ׄ 💌꒱ ⁺ ꔫ ׅ🍒 ₊﹒ ⌣ ✧ㅤִ ﹙𝘀𝗵𝗲 / 𝗵𝗲𝗿 ﹚ㅤ.ㅤ ౨౿ ꒰ ׂ ♡. 𓈒 05.

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𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬:

𝐜.𝐚𝐢; 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐜; 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐜

𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞:

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬; 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲; 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬; 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞:

𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚; 𝟎𝟓; 𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧; 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐲/𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞<𝟑; 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜; 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡/𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐧𝐝/𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐃𝐞𝐥 𝐑𝐚𝐲; 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐲

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐲: @dollywons & @uzmacchiato

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I’m in love with ur themeeeeeeeeee

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

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hiiii

i miss you 🥹

u guys are way to cute i canttttt🥹🥹

miss u too:3

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are u coming back? we miss you

omg guys i miss u too, i had a really confusing time without any motivation for anything but i think i’m gonna write something in the next few days:)

im so sorry that i was gone😭😭

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nearly finished writing a really really long one shot so you’ll get some pleasure today hehe😋😋

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i‘m trying to write again today!!! i‘m really busy im sorry guys but now im on vacation and i think i have enough free time😋😋💗

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hey it's me the anon who requested the rafe x pouge!reader angst you asked me if it should include smut or not and I wandted to say no just angst/hurt but if you already started to write and you have an idea then thats totally fine I really appricate you for taking your time and writing thank you very much lots of love 💕💕💓🥰🥰

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞...

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐩𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐂𝐖: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭!!!

The sun was setting over the marshes of the Outer Banks, casting long shadows through the trees. The air was thick with humidity and the scent of saltwater, but all you could feel was the weight of his words. The silence between you and Rafe Cameron wasn’t new—but this time, it felt final.

You didn’t belong here. Not in the marble halls of the Cameron estate. Not in this car. Not with him.

He sat behind the wheel of his truck, one hand on the steering wheel, knuckles white. His jaw was tight, like he was holding something in, swallowing it down before it could slip.

You couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Say it,” you whispered, your voice nearly cracking. “If you’re going to leave, just say it.”

He didn’t look at you. Not at first.

You wished he would. Because when Rafe looked at you—really looked at you—it felt like he saw the parts of yourself you didn’t even understand. He saw everything. But right now, all you saw was someone who regretted ever letting you in.

“You think this is easy for me?” he said finally, low and bitter. “You think I want this?”

You turned to face him fully, heart thudding so loudly it drowned out the cicadas and waves crashing somewhere in the distance.

“I don’t know what you want, Rafe. I never have.”

That broke something. His hand left the wheel and slammed the dashboard hard enough to make you flinch. “You think I don’t fucking care?” he snapped. “You think I’m doing this because I don’t care about you?”

You didn’t answer. Because you didn’t know what to say anymore.

For months, you’d been sneaking around, your fingers brushing against his in the dark, your name whispered like a sin in his bed. A Pogue and a Kook. A disaster waiting to happen.

And now it was.

“You’re ashamed of me,” you said quietly. “That’s why you never told anyone.”

Rafe looked at you then. And for once, there was no mask, no smug grin, no carefully constructed arrogance.

Just pain.

“No,” he said, almost too soft. “I was trying to protect you.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Yeah? Well, you’re doing a shitty job.”

You met Rafe Cameron on accident.

You were working at a beach shack in Kildare during the summer rush, serving overpriced smoothies and wiping down sticky counters. He came in one afternoon, sunglasses pushed up in his hair, wearing a look like the whole world bored him.

He didn’t speak at first. Just stared.

You raised a brow. “You want a drink or are you just here to kill me with your laser eyes?”

That made him smirk. “What’s the strongest thing you got?”

“Orange mango kale,” you said dryly. “Devastating.”

He laughed. It was genuine, like it surprised even him. “Guess I’ll take that, then.”

He came back the next day. And the one after that.

Eventually, he stopped ordering drinks.

It wasn’t supposed to be anything. Not really.

A fling. A distraction. Two people from opposite ends of the island colliding in the middle of a hot, miserable summer.

You weren’t stupid. You knew what it meant to be seen with someone like Rafe Cameron.

Your friends hated him. JJ called him a “spoiled trust-fund psycho.” Pope said he was dangerous. Kiara didn’t even bother pretending to tolerate him.

But they didn’t know what you knew.

They didn’t see him when he sat next to you on the dock, eyes red from crying, fingers shaking. They didn’t hear the things he told you late at night, words so raw and vulnerable they stuck in your chest like glass.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” he had whispered once, forehead resting against yours. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not even real.”

You held him like he was.

But love didn’t fix things. It didn’t erase the lies or the violence or the fact that he came from a world that had never accepted people like you.

So you stayed hidden. You kept your distance in the daylight. Pretended you were strangers.

But it wore you down, piece by piece, until you didn’t know what was worse—being with him or being nothing.

“You don’t get it,” he said, back in the truck, eyes still locked on the road like he couldn’t bear to look at you. “You don’t know what my dad would do if he found out. What Topper would say. What everyone would say.”

“I don’t care what they say!” you burst out. “I never cared. I didn’t ask for you to fall for me, Rafe. But you did. So don’t put this on me.”

He finally turned. And in that look, you saw it all.

Fear. Guilt. Regret. Love.

And none of it was enough.

“I’m not good for you,” he said. “I never was.”

You felt the tears start to burn, but you blinked them back. “That’s not your choice to make.”

“No,” he said. “But I already made it.”

He dropped you off near the Chateau, the spot where you always met in secret.

You didn’t say anything as you got out.

But before you could walk away, his voice stopped you.

“I loved you,” he said.

You turned, heart shattering. “Loved?”

He winced, like he hadn’t meant to say it that way. “I mean—”

But you were already gone.

The days that followed blurred together.

You told the others nothing. Just said you and Rafe had gotten into a fight and it was over. They were relieved.

They didn’t see the way you woke up crying in the middle of the night.

Didn’t hear the silence of your phone that used to buzz with his name.

Didn’t know that you still walked to that same dock every evening, hoping, praying, that he might come back.

But he didn’t.

It was two weeks later when you saw him again.

At a party on Figure Eight, one you weren’t supposed to be at. You went because Kiara dared you to. Because you wanted to prove—to yourself, to everyone—that you were over him.

He was surrounded by people. Girls in expensive bikinis. His friends. His world.

He looked right through you.

That hurt worse than anything.

The final straw came a few nights later, when JJ found you crying on the roof of the Chateau.

“I don’t get it,” you whispered. “How can someone love you one day and forget you the next?”

JJ sat beside you in silence. He didn’t say Rafe wasn’t worth your tears, didn’t try to talk you out of it.

He just said, “People like him… they don’t know how to love something they can’t control.”

Months passed.

Seasons changed.

You still carried the ache of him, like a bruise that never fully faded.

You moved on. Sort of. You learned how to breathe without waiting for his name. How to smile without pretending. How to live without looking over your shoulder, hoping he’d be there.

And then—out of nowhere—he showed up again.

At the dock.

Same place, same time.

“Hey,” he said, voice tentative.

You didn’t say anything. Just stared at him, waiting.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted.

You nodded slowly. “Bit late for that.”

He sighed. “I know I hurt you. I was scared.”

“I was scared too,” you said. “But I still chose you.”

“I didn’t deserve you,” he said.

“No,” you agreed. “You didn’t.”

He stepped closer. “But I never stopped loving you.”

You felt the tears again, but this time, you didn’t let them fall. “You only loved me when it was convenient.”

“That’s not true—”

“You left me,” you said. “When it got hard. When people started talking. When it meant something.”

He opened his mouth, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Don’t come back into my life just to break me again,” you whispered.

And with that, you walked away.

𝐀𝐍: 𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭🥹🥹 𝐭𝐲𝐬𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐥𝐲💗💗

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Hiii, I sent you a request with a Tik Tok link, did it reach you? It's just that my Tumblr has been crashing, I'm sorry. 😭

yesss i got it!!! i have to write some requests that i got before yours but i will post yours for sure as soon as possible:)💗

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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟏 ~ 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (req.)

(so weird tgat this is the last part of the kinkay series!!! I’m so thankful for all the love and the kind words. luv u all🥹💗💗)

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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Drew Starkey x Reader

𝐂𝐖: Explicit sexual content. Consensual breeding kink, dominance, praise, soft degradation

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: He wants all of you — not just your body, not just tonight. Drew wants to claim you, fill you, and leave no room for doubt that you’re his. The trust runs deep, the love runs deeper, and by the end of the night, your heart and body both belong to him in every possible way.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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The room is quiet except for the low hum of music and the soft clink of a wine glass being set down.

You’re in Drew’s lap.

The lights are dim. His hands are on your thighs, big and warm, thumbs tracing over your bare skin with slow, deliberate circles that make your heart race. His gaze is locked on you — so focused, so sure. Like there’s no one else in the world. Like he already owns you and is just waiting for you to realize it.

You shiver — not from cold, but from the look in his eyes.

“You know what you do to me?” he murmurs, voice low and thick as his hands slide higher. “Every time I see you in my clothes. In my space. You don’t even realize.”

You lean in, nose brushing his. “Tell me.”

“I want to ruin you.”

The words are soft. Reverent. Full of hunger and worship, not cruelty.

“I want to fill you up and keep it there. Not just once. Not just tonight. Again. And again. Until it sticks.”

Your breath catches.

He sees it. Smiles a little. Hands sliding under your shirt, fingers curling around your waist.

“You want that?” he murmurs. “Want to feel me leaking out of you for hours, all messy and full of me?”

You nod — helplessly, breathlessly. “Yes.”

His mouth crashes into yours, and everything after that is a blur of clothes being pulled away, limbs tangling, and your back hitting the soft mattress as Drew climbs over you.

The need is thick in the air — not just lust, but something bigger. Something hungrier. Like he needs to leave a mark deeper than bruises. Like this is more than just sex.

He breaks the kiss only to look down at you, both of you panting, your bodies bare and warm under the low bedroom light.

“You know I’d never really try unless we talked about it first,” he says. “But let me pretend. Just for tonight.”

You nod again, and whisper, “Pretend all you want.”

His breath hitches. Then his hands are on your thighs again, spreading you open like he owns you.

He runs his fingers between your legs, groaning when he feels how soaked you already are.

“This is all for me?”

“All for you,” you whisper, moaning when he rubs soft, teasing circles against your clit. “Drew—”

He doesn’t make you wait long.

He lines himself up, pushing in slowly — watching your face the whole time. You gasp, eyes fluttering shut, and he leans down to kiss you as he bottoms out.

“So tight,” he growls. “So small. You take me so well.”

You moan against his mouth, already trembling beneath him.

He sets a deep, steady rhythm — not fast, but heavy. Every thrust hits deep, stretching you open with a drag that makes your toes curl.

“Gonna make you mine,” he whispers. “Fill you up. Watch it drip out of you and stuff it back in.”

You gasp, clutching at his shoulders. “Drew—”

“You want it, don’t you?” he growls, fucking into you harder now. “Want me to come inside you. To breed you. Keep you like this.”

“Yes,” you cry. “Yes, please—please, do it—”

He groans loud, hands gripping your waist like he might lose control. His pace is brutal now, hips slamming into yours, the slap of skin on skin filling the room.

You feel it coming — that tight, dizzy edge that makes your whole body shake.

“Come for me,” he pants. “Come while I’m deep inside you.”

You do — loud, legs shaking around his hips, crying his name as your orgasm hits you like a wave.

That’s all it takes.

Drew swears low in your ear, slamming into you one last time and spilling deep inside you with a moan so raw it leaves you breathless.

You’re both panting, shaking, holding onto each other like the world might disappear.

But he doesn’t pull out. Not right away.

Instead, he rolls you gently onto your side, keeping you full, one strong arm wrapped around your waist.

He kisses the back of your neck, voice soft and ruined. “Still wanna keep it in.”

You smile, heart pounding, body blissfully spent.

“You made your point.”

“I’ll make it again tomorrow,” he whispers. “And the next day.”

You laugh — breathless and full of love — and pull his arm tighter around you.

“I’m yours,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says. “And you’re never getting away.”

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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @notkiaralol @rcsbabydoll @cokewithcameron @psychocitylights @favzcarpentr @alwaysherother @mavericksice @daryldixon83 @luvinqaidan @43hughes @k4yr14 @asher-420s-blog @soft-starr

[al-1-na]

heyy, for kinkay series could you do drew with pregnant kink? i really love your works btw 🥹

and i love u🥹💗

gonna start writing this immediately!!!

gonna be the last kinkay part and i’m soooo happy it’s gonna be about drew hehe

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new kinkay part out now!!!:) sorry if it turned out really bad idk but i feel like i could have done so much better

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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟎 ~ 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 (req.)

(𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐦𝐠)

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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rafe x Topper x Reader

𝐂𝐖: Explicit sexual content, consensual threesomes, multiple partners

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: At a lively party, you find yourself caught in an intoxicating moment with Rafe Cameron and his close friend Jamie. Drawn together by mutual desire and tender affection, the three of you share a passionate, intimate night where comfort, care, and raw pleasure intertwine.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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The music was loud, lights flashing in waves across the crowded room. You felt a mix of excitement and nerves as you navigated the throng of people, clutching your drink a little too tightly. Parties like this weren’t usually your scene, but tonight was different — because Rafe was here.

Rafe caught your eye from across the room, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was leaning casually against the wall, but the way he looked at you made it clear he was only waiting for you. Next to him was Topper, one of his best friends — the kind of guy who always seemed calm, steady, and somehow easy to talk to.

As you crossed the room, Rafe stepped forward, slipping his hand into yours. “Ready?” he murmured.

You nodded, heart racing. Topper followed close behind, eyes warm and attentive.

The three of you found a quieter corner, away from the pulsing music. Topper smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You look amazing tonight.”

Rafe leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “We want to take care of you.”

You swallowed, the heat rising in your chest.

Topper’s hand slid around your waist, steady and reassuring, while Rafe’s fingers traced soft patterns along your arm. Their touches were different — Topper’s gentle and grounding, Rafe’s electric and possessive.

Slowly, Topper pressed a kiss to your cheek, lips feather-light. You sighed, leaning into him.

Rafe’s hand moved lower, sliding beneath the hem of your top, fingers dancing over your skin. You shivered, caught between the tenderness of Topper’s touch and the burning need in Rafe’s.

Before you knew it, Topper’s hand found your breast, cupping and kneading with careful reverence. Rafe’s mouth was at your neck, biting softly, claiming.

“I want you,” Rafe growled, voice thick.

Topper smiled softly, fingers trailing lower, teasing just beneath your waistband.

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation — the warmth of two men, both so different yet equally devoted to you.

Rafe whispered, “Let’s get you somewhere private.”

The three of you slipped through the crowd, hearts pounding, breaths quick.

Once inside the quiet bedroom, Toppee pressed you gently against the wall, lips meeting yours in a slow, sweet kiss that melted away the noise. His fingers wandered beneath your clothes, caressing, exploring.

Rafe’s hands found your hips, pulling you close. “You’re mine,” he murmured, voice low and rough.

Topper stepped back slightly, still touching you, fingers sliding between your legs, teasing you through your panties.

Rafe’s mouth was on your collarbone, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. You moaned, arching into both of them.

Topper’s fingers slipped inside you, slow and steady, making you gasp. Rafe’s hand pressed firmly on your lower back, grounding you as he kissed down your body.

“God, you’re perfect,” Rafe breathed, lips brushing over your stomach.

Topper’s mouth found yours again, tongue swirling, needy and gentle.

Rafe’s fingers teased your clit, slick and sure. You were drowning in sensation — two sets of hands, two mouths, one burning desire.

Rafe pulled your panties aside, then pushed into you slowly, deep and hard. Topper’s fingers kept moving inside you, working you in tandem.

You cried out, lost in the overwhelming pleasure, the feeling of being cherished by both men.

“Come for us,” Rafe growled, thrusts growing faster.

Topper’s hands cupped your face, steady and loving.

When you finally shattered, it was with both of them holding you — safe, adored, and utterly theirs.

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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @notkiaralol @rcsbabydoll @cokewithcameron @psychocitylights @favzcarpentr @alwaysherother @mavericksice @daryldixon83 @luvinqaidan @43hughes @k4yr14 @asher-420s-blog @soft-starr

[al-1-na]

!!!

[al-1-na]

I absolutely loved your sub!rafe smut. Can you do the same one about sub!rafe, but more intense? I mean, like overstimulate it or something. Hahahaha. 🙈

posting it tomorrow😋😋💗

love this request i have so much fun writing it rn!!!

[al-1-na]

posted!!!:)

[al-1-na]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟗 ~ 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (req.)

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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!Rafe x Reader

𝐂𝐖: Explicit sexual content (18+). Consensual dom/sub dynamic. Overstimulation, orgasm control, light bondage, begging, degradation/praise mix, emotional intimacy

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Rafe surrenders completely, begging and breaking under your control as you push him past his limits with overstimulation, praise, and love — all because he trusts you to hold him through the unraveling.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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You don’t know what you love more — the way Rafe falls apart beneath you, or the way he wants to.

The sheets are already tangled from the first round. His body glows with sweat, flushed pink down his chest, and his wrists are tied loosely to the headboard with soft black restraints — not because he needs to be restrained, but because he asked you to.

Because he begged you.

He’s trembling. Still hard, still leaking, still gasping for air after you pulled another orgasm out of him ten minutes ago. He said he couldn’t come again.

You didn’t believe him. You never believe him when he whines like that.

“You look so good like this,” you murmur, dragging your fingers down his ribs, past his hip, letting your hand rest on his thigh. He flinches — oversensitive already. “All used up and still ready for me.”

His breath shudders. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” you cut in softly, firmly, fingers wrapping around his cock again. His hips jerk.

“Too much,” he whispers, face turned into his bicep. But his hips roll again — barely, instinctively, chasing your hand.

“You’re already getting hard again,” you coo. “Don’t lie to me.”

He gasps as you stroke him — slow, relentless. His thighs tense, stomach flexing with every upward drag.

“You like this,” you whisper in his ear, licking at the edge of it. “Being ruined. Crying in my hands. You want to be broken open for me.”

“Please,” he groans. “I can’t—I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna come when I say you can.”

A whimper. His back arches, and you see the tears prick his lashes. Not from pain — from pleasure. From being so far gone that his body doesn’t know what to do except surrender.

You crawl over him again, straddling his hips, grinding slowly against him as he trembles beneath you.

“You begged me for this, remember?” you say, leaning in to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Said you wanted to be used. Said I could do anything I wanted.”

“I meant it,” he breathes. “I did, I do—just—please, please—”

You lift yourself slightly and slowly sink down onto him, both of you moaning in tandem. You’re still wet, still open from earlier, but the stretch is intense — and you feel every twitch, every jerk of his hips, every helpless sound he makes.

He’s already close. You know it. His body can’t take much more. But that’s the point.

You ride him slowly at first, dragging your hips in deep, grinding circles that make him sob.

“You feel that?” you whisper, nails dragging down his chest. “That’s what you do to me. That’s how good you are for me.”

He moans — high, wrecked, beautiful.

“You’re doing so good, Rafe. Taking everything. Giving me everything.”

He bucks under you, wrists pulling against the restraints. “Please let me—please let me come—”

“No.”

You squeeze tighter around him and he cries out.

“Not yet.”

You move faster — punishing, bouncing on him now — and he’s gone. Head thrown back, jaw slack, his voice no longer forming words, just sounds.

You grab his jaw and force him to look at you. His eyes are glassy, completely undone.

“You’re gonna come inside me,” you whisper, panting. “You’re gonna fill me up while you cry and thank me for using you.”

That’s all it takes.

He shatters beneath you — sobbing, moaning, hips bucking uncontrollably as he empties into you, over and over. You don’t stop. You won’t stop. Not until he’s twitching and gasping and sobbing into your chest.

“Shh,” you whisper as he whimpers through the overstimulation. “You’re okay. You did perfect.”

You stroke his hair gently, untie his wrists, and ease him down into the pillows.

His body is trembling, flushed and glowing, but his eyes are soft now. Wet, but happy. He pulls you close — holding onto you like you’re the only steady thing left.

“Was it too much?” you whisper, kissing his forehead.

“No,” he breathes. “It was perfect.”

You run your fingers along his ribs, slow and soothing.

“Say it,” you whisper.

He smiles faintly. “I’m yours.”

You kiss his cheek. “All mine.”

And you hold him there, warm and safe, wrapped in each other’s breath — no roles now. Just you and Rafe. Lovers. Trust. Devotion painted on skin.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚‧｡⋆

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @notkiaralol @rcsbabydoll @cokewithcameron @psychocitylights @favzcarpentr @alwaysherother @mavericksice @daryldixon83 @luvinqaidan @43hughes @k4yr14 @asher-420s-blog @soft-starr

[al-1-na]

Heyyyy I was wondering if for your kinkay series you could do a party where rafe and one of his friends start touching up the reader until all 3 end up in a room together and… yk

-🍪

coming tomorrow!!!💗

alsooo the 🍪 is such a great idea j saw this so many times so i’m gonna do this now. just put a emoji under your requests like this (a different one of course) and use it every time you request as an anon so i know who i’m talking to:)

just if u want ofc!!!

[al-1-na]

I absolutely loved your sub!rafe smut. Can you do the same one about sub!rafe, but more intense? I mean, like overstimulate it or something. Hahahaha. 🙈

posting it tomorrow😋😋💗

love this request i have so much fun writing it rn!!!