ty | 21 | she/her | cat mama x7 | dog mama x2 | fangirl | obx | tsitp | tvd | tlou | twd | soa | euphoria | motorheads | teen wolf | animal kingdom | 1d + solos | marvel (infinity saga only oops) | aus | probably listening to vance joy rn | fav movie is moana | music enthusiast | aest | updating either ten times a day, or once a week |
i read + write for multiple fandoms, because i fall in love too easily <3
➳ my requests are always open! (give me your filthiest, angst-iest, fluffiest ideas and i'll fill your heart's desires)
➳ my masterlist is here!
➳ my main is @tyhasissues
interact with me! messages, requests, questions, reblogs, feedback, criticism-it's all welcomed! i love making friends, and appreciate all interactions <3
big on angst. bigger on kindness. no bigotry allowed 🫰🏼
one shots (there may sometimes be two bullets in the barrel) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
➳ spin the bottle ⛆⚡︎
bsf!rafe x reader play spin the bottle
➳ spin the bottle part two ⚡︎
bsf!rafe x reader let a silly little game have more... heated... consequences
➳ no strings, no mercy ⛆
situationship!rafe x badass reader after rafe unnecessarily defends her
➳ green means go ⛆
toxic!ex!bf!rafe x toxic!reader when he tries to trick her into wearing a red dress to a traffic light party
➳ heat of the moment ⛆⚡︎
toxic!ex!rafe x toxic!reader -> jj maybank x reader when rafe cheats, she's got the perfect man ready to make him jealous (not a happy ending for my rafe girlies sorry!)
➳ lessons ⚡︎
rafe x reader when rafe's idea of a punishment is making her ride his abs
➳ the bet ⛆
rafe x sunshine!reader when she finds out their whole relationship started with a stupid bet
➳ beyond the bet ⛆✿
part 2 to the bet, where rafe earns reader's trust back
➳ marvin's room ⛆
rafe x ex!reader based on the song by drake
➳ little bit ⛆⚡︎
rafe x situationship!reader based on the song by drake and lykke li
➳ all mine ⚡︎
barry feeds your heart, but rafe fucks you out of spite
➳ needed me ⚡︎
you don't need rafe cameron. rafe cameron needs you.
series' ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
➳ lights down ✿ COMPLETED
rockstar!rafe x maybank!actress!reader SMAU
➳ glory and gore ⛆✿ ONGOING
rafe x reader/jj x reader navigate the underworld, and their impossible relationships
➳ return of the routledge ✿⚡︎⛆ ONGOING
kook!rafe cameron x kook!jj maybank x kook!routledge!reader college smau + written
➳ blood in the water one | two | three ✿⚡︎⛆ miniseries! COMPLETED
s2!rafe x barry's!sister!reader are solely fwb until reality comes crushing down on both of them
headcanons ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
➳ afl!rafe x wag!reader
➳ ufc!fighter!rafe x highschool!sweetheart!reader
➳ vampire!rafe x human!maybank!reader
drabbles ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
➳ how they would react to you squirting on their face ✿⚡︎
➳ dior ✿
rafe x sugar!baby!reader
➳ goat me crazy ✿
rafe's reaction to a new...pet... in your living room
➳ bumpin' around ⚡︎
rafe teaches you how to ride him when your bump gets in the way
a/n: another dirty little entry to my 200 followers celebration! felt cruel to do jj like that, and sub!rafe is just so yummy i couldn't help myself 😋
rafe cameron masterlist
Rafe’s eyes aren’t on the girls onstage. Visiting you every other day at your strip club, he’s gotten used to being greeted with tits in his face. The only problem is that yours are the only ones that do anything for him.
He prowls along the back wall, tight fitted black tee clinging to him like a second skin. He’s not sure if the smell of sweat is from the rich Kooks throwing cash onto the stage before them, or if it’s him.
By the time he reaches the staircase leading up to your office, his pulse is hammering. He grips the handrail like it might steady him. He knows it won’t. Nothing will. Not with the lie he’s about to spin into a proposal.
He doesn’t knock, cracking the door to your office like he owns the place. Your eyes flick up to him, a cloud of smoke curling from your lips. ‘Complaints can be left via email, Cameron.’
The sight of you in your blazer dress, heels sharp enough to kill, makes his throat go dry. He hates how unbothered you look. Hates how little his presence stirs you. Every other girl flutters around him.
Not you.
Maybe that’s exactly why he can’t get you out of his head.
Your lips curve at his uninvited entry, gaze dragging over him like a predator circling prey. He tells himself you’re colder than he is. Still, he yearns for those rare, shattering moments when your guard slips.
‘’m not here to complain, doll,’ he says, shutting the door behind him, clicking the lock. You laugh under your breath, settling deeper into the loveseat, legs crossed, cigarette balanced between your fingers, your phone in the other hand.
‘Forgive me. You look like you’re here to ruin my night.’
The tobacco smell should choke him, but now all it smells like is you. Sex and smoke and Tiffany.
‘Brought you a present,’ he says, swagger sliding back into place as he takes the cigarette from your hands for a drag. You quirk an eyebrow, turning off your phone.
‘A present?’ you echo, amused, flicking ash into crystal. Rafe drops onto the cushion beside you, slipping you a key and a credit card from his pocket.
‘I don’t want your blow,’ you laugh, lighting another cigarette. He shakes his head, a smirk twitching up the corners of his lips.
‘Not blow. A ticket. To The Bahamas. Or…’ He spins the key around his finger, cool as sin. ‘Or you ride with me.’
Your laugh is sharp, unbelieving. ‘Plane tickets, huh? You drop those on every girl who doesn’t call you back?’
He kicks back on the loveseat, throwing an arm loosely on the cushion behind you. His fingers don’t touch, but he’s close enough that the heat radiates from his body, hot enough to burn. ‘It’s a wedding. My family is going. I want you there.’
Your eyes narrow, amused disbelief etched on your face. ‘As what, exactly? Your girlfriend? Your redemption arc?’ His jaw flexes, but he doesn’t flinch. He won’t give you the satisfaction.
‘They not tell you I don’t play the meet-the-parents game?’ The grin on your face is polite, but there’s a menacing power trip dancing behind your eyes. ‘I don’t do that white-horse-and-carriage shit, Cameron.’
He exhales a laugh, though his darkened blue eyes linger on your lips. ‘Maybe you just don’t trust yourself with me in paradise.’ He says the words calmly, like he almost believes them himself. You let out a laugh, your hand coming to settle on his thigh.
‘Baby, I don’t trust you anywhere.’
The words rake over him. He tenses under your touch, trying to not twitch when your nails tease patterns into the fabric trailing up higher with each swirl. His tongue runs along his teeth in a moment of contemplation, but your touch has him paralyzed.
His breath stutters, and you can’t help but laugh, low and sultry, feeding on the tension. ‘Relax, Cameron,’ you lull, pressing a palm against the hard line straining in his pants. ‘I’d never make it that easy for you.’
His chest tightens as you raise the cigarette again, only for him to catch your wrist and drag it to his mouth, inhaling deep from between your fingers. ‘I don’t need easy, doll. I take what I want.’
You tilt your head, examining the way he exhales your smoke. ‘Cute. If that’s true, why are you here, begging me to come to the Bahamas with you?’
‘I don’t beg,’ he says, leaning in close, his nose grazing yours. ‘But you’re the only one who doesn’t make me feel like I’m drowning.’ You let the confession linger in the air for a moment, before letting out a cruel laugh.
‘You poor thing. I thought you were built for deep water,’ you say, sweeping a strand of his hair out of his eyes. In a calculated move, you slide onto his lap, straddling him with lazy precision. Lace glints between your thighs, cigarette smoke curling past his cheek.
His hands grip your hips, too tight, like he can anchor you there. ‘If I let you touch me tonight,’ you murmur, lips grazing his jaw, ‘it’s because I feel like it. Not because you earned it.’
His hips jerk up beneath you, the heat of his breath searing down your neck. ‘I’ll put you on your knees before you finish that cigarette.’
Your nails bite into his jaw, forcing his lips apart. ‘Prove it.’
And then you’re gone, sliding off him as quickly as you mounted, back in your seat, smoke spilling from your mouth in a hypnotizing swirl.
‘Don’t fuckin’ tease me like that,’ he growls, throwing his head back in frustration.
‘Teasing? No, baby.’ You crush the cigarette out with a final twist. ‘I’m training.’
He barks a laugh, chest heaving, eyes dark. ‘Training? You think that’s what this is?’ He leans forward, sliding a calloused hand high up your bare thigh. ‘I don’t work for it. I take it.’
The twitch in his jaw betrays him. Silence hangs heavy in the air, waiting for his rough voice to cut through the fog. ‘C’mon. Don’t make me waste time on my knees.’
Your smile sharpens. ‘On your knees? That sounds a lot like begging, Cameron.’ His nostrils flare. He hates how much you’re enjoying this, so he leans in, trying to cage you in with his size.
You press a palm flat against his chest, holding him back with infuriating ease, only to be met with a huff of annoyance from Rafe. ‘Fuck,’ he breathes out, grip on your thigh dangerously high and dangerously tight. ‘Don’t act like you don’t want it too.’
You quirk a brow, unbothered. ‘Want what? Cause all I hear is you, choking on your pride.’ That does it. His hand shoots up to your jaw, fingers squeezing just shy of bruising. His pretty blue eyes are tainted with a wild neediness.
‘Please,’ he spits out, like the word burns his tongue. ‘Please, doll. At least let me taste you.’
You laugh sharply, and his grip nearing your heat tightens reflexively. He tries to flip the moment back, voice thick with desperation but wrapped in threat. ‘I’ll make you come so hard you’ll forget your own name.’
You don’t flinch.
‘You think you’re training me?’ His voice breaks into something frantic, lust clawing through him. ‘I’ll fuck you until you’re the one beggin’.’
But when he crushes his lips to your wrist, mouthing over the thrum of your pulse like it’s the only thing tethering him, you know he’s already folded. Rafe moves fast, like he’s been waiting for the chance.
One sharp motion and you’re flat against the loveseat cushions, his body caging yours in. His hands pin your wrists beside your head, grinding into your clothed core. ‘See?’ he breathes against your mouth, nose brushing against yours. ‘I told you–Twice. I take what I want.’
You let him think it. You let him nip at your jaw, rut against you like he’s already won. His teeth scrape at your throat, his voice dripping sex.
Then, just as his fingers brush your panties, you snap your knee up, catching him off balance. In a blur, he’s on his back, wrists caught in your grip, your weight heavy on his hips. Rafe freezes, his chest heaving, pupils blown wide.
You straddle his hips with slow, deliberate pressure, letting him feel exactly how close he is to what he wants, without giving him any of it. ‘That all you’ve got, Cameron?’ you taunt, rolling slowly against the bulge in his jeans. ‘Five seconds on top and you think you’re in charge?’
His laugh comes out shaky, desperate, like he’s clinging to the last shred of cockiness he has left. ‘Doesn’t matter who’s on top. You’ll still let me fuck you.’
You roll your hips once more. Just once, dragging your cunt over the ache in his jeans with deliberate tease in each movement until his breath shudders out. ‘Please,’ he rasps before he can stop himself.
You cut him off with a sharp tug of his hair, forcing his head back so he has no choice but to look at you. Your grin is merciless. ‘There he is.’
His chest heaves under you, every muscle straining like he’s torn between fighting and surrender. His voice is shredded. ‘You win. You fuckin’ win. Just–fuck–just give me a taste.’
Your lips inch closer to his ear, taking the soft skin of his earlobe between your teeth. ‘Lesson one,’ you murmur against his pulse, tugging his hair hard enough to make him groan. ‘I make the rules. You should know this by now.’
He knows.
Fuck, he knows.
His hips buck up helplessly, and he doesn’t bother to hold back the groan that slips from his lips. You pull back, brushing your nose against his.
‘You’re killing me,’ he breathes out, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.
‘Lesson two,’ you begin, your hand sliding around his chiseled jaw. ‘If you’re going to beg, do it right.’ Your lips barely brush his, but it’s enough for him to get a taste of you. It’s not the taste he wanted, but the tease alone unravels him.
Heat spills in his jeans, his body jerking under yours, groans breaking into whimpers as he cums without warning.
‘Fuck–doll,’ he whimpers, hands flexing tightly wrapped in yours. Sweat glistens across his forehead, his breaths falling in sharp, uneven bursts. You grind down once more for good measure, before slipping off his lap.
Rafe protests with fingers clutching at your blazer that you easily dodge in his lustful haze. With you out of his grasp, he’s left sprawled, cock still rock-solid, chest rising like he’s about to pounce, and his eyes glued to you like you’re the only thing keeping him sane.
You smooth out your blazer, composure untouched. His voice breaks between his ragged breaths, but your steps are already carrying you to the door. ‘The Bahamas,’ he pants, voice hoarse. ‘Come with me. Please. I’ll show you more than this.’
You spin on your heel, hand on the doorhandle. You glance back once, sharp and cool.
‘You need me, Cameron. Don’t confuse that with me needing you.’
He watches the door as you leave, still twitching, still desperate and completely and utterly hooked. He stays there long after you leave, pants sticky and suffocating, every nerve sparking with the memory of your weight above him.
It’s not the orgasm that leaves him feeling empty. It’s the way you looked at him like he was nothing, and still made him feel owned. He hates it. He craves it.
For the first time in his life, begging doesn’t feel like losing.
streetracer!rafe who… is addicted to risk. whether it’s taking a sharp turn with no brakes, or racing with one hand on the wheel at 130mph.
streetracer!rafe who… smells like gasoline, cigarettes and expensive cologne.
streetracer!rafe who… only races for pinks, but never takes the loser’s keys anyway. he prefers knowing someone owes him a favor.
streetracer!rafe who… uses speed as therapy. fight with ward? catch him flying down the roads of kildare island, windows down, letting each mile coax him into calmness.
streetracer!rafe who… is cocky as hell. will run his mouth all day to anyone with ears, because if they’ve got a problem? they can race him.
streetracer!rafe who… has RE4PER plates on, even if they’re fake, because: ‘no plates, no case.’
streetracer!rafe who… calls you his lucky charm.
streetracer!rafe who… makes you touch the wheel before his races.
streetracer!rafe who… races in his matte black manual 2023 bmw m4 g82. twin turbo, straight piped, loud, flashy and tuned within an inch of its life.
streetracer!rafe who… daily drives his nardo grey rs7, but won’t race it because it’s automatic, and ‘that’s not real racing.’
streetracer!rafe who… only wears prada sneakers for racing.
streetracer!rafe who… keeps a polaroid of your tits in his visor.
streetracer!rafe who… loves intimidating people. flashing that drop-dead gorgeous smirk at girls, shaking hands too firmly, using stupid pet names regardless of who he’s speaking to. he lives for making people’s hearts race.
streetracer!rafe who… is always where the afterparty is. regardless of whose party, someone is always asking if the reaper will be there.
streetracer!rafe who… is a professional ragebaiter. someone’s showing off their car? ‘that’s cute, babygirl. does it come in men’s?’
mechanic!reader who... is a pogue, growing up in her dad’s workshop, helping with cars since she could hold a wrench.
mechanic!reader who... does side jobs in her spare time for cash.
mechanic!reader who... isn’t scared of being feminine, even being in a male dominated workforce.
mechanic!reader who... is independent and painfully fierce.
mechanic!reader who... uses insults as her way of showing love.
mechanic!reader who... absolutely despised rafe, but was forced to replace his battery because her dad’s shop was the only one open on new year’s day, and realized that whilst he is a dick, he’s also quite funny.
mechanic!reader who... notices that rafe starts trekking to the cut for simple little jobs — brake pads, servicing, even wiper blade changes.
mechanic!reader who... hates watching rafe race, because she can’t stand his overpowering arrogance on the streets.
mechanic!reader who... is best friends with jj, fixing his bike every other day.
mechanic!reader who... wears low cut cargos and slutty tank tops, often stained with grease.
mechanic!reader who... smells like heaven, because her extra cash often goes to higher end perfumes, but only after her dad’s bills are paid.
mechanic!reader who... becomes the only mechanic rafe trusts with any of his cars.
mechanic!reader who... is rafe’s voice of reason. if a mod is stupid, she’ll be sure to let him know. if he’s driving it recklessly, he’s hearing about it.
‘you keep redlining like that, you’re gonna blow a turbo.’
‘a turbo costs me three grand. a race costs me my reputation, baby.’
mechanic!reader who... always double, triple checks rafe’s engine, just to be sure her work is perfect before each race.
a/n: watched motorheads and couldn't help but imagine caitlyn and harris as the biggest power couple ever omg i had way too many ideas help me
