𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: use of whore and some misogynistic views.
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: prince!rafe wanders throughout the village for a slice of rest before stumbling upon a girl…
the market was packed with commoners. farmers selling their produce, children running aloof and mothers bartering with shop keepers for a measly, dry loaf of bread. a typical day in the quaint village of charleston.
apart from one thing.
a prince. the prince.
prince rafe cameron, first in line to the throne of the outer banks dynasty. a proud and prestigious kingdom his father- king ward- built, brick by brick. or should i say, coin by coin. king ward’s greedy nature had often stole the poor townspeople of their happiness and wealth, leaving behind plenty of poverty but in return, plenty of wealth for him.
but prince rafe wasn’t in the town to boast or flaunt like usual, he was here to escape. from the undeniable pressure his father had placed upon him recently: the task of finding a wife.
and now under the disguise of an onyx cloak and tattered clothes, prince rafe mulls around the market. watching the pathetic peasants run around to do their errands and fulfill their meagre duties.
he wanders through the winding rows of stalls, past a seamstress and a carpenter until he reaches the endless stands of produce.
stands covered with pale fruits, arrays of vegetables and assortments of breads. he’s never seen anything so- vile. a sharp contrast to the exotic foods he eats daily.
but his disapproving thoughts are suddenly interrupted as his gaze lands upon a girl arguing at a nearby stall.
a girl arguing? he’s never seen such a sight. women don’t argue? well the women he’s met certainly don’t argue, they make polite conversation and sit nicely. but arguing? he’s never seen such a sight.
as he nears the stand, he fakes browsing a neighbouring stall. yet his ears stay trained on your melodic voice.
“i am not paying three whole pounds for an apple mr hendricks! i know your produce is by far the best around but you know i can’t afford that anymore! it’s outrageous.” you admit before sighing and moving to scan the crooked market stall that prince rafe is currently “considering” from buying from.
“the prices here are unacceptable today hm?” you muse towards the cloaked stranger next to you. “the king must have risen the price of tax again.. goodness me..” sighing, you say. painfully unaware of the literal prince next to you.
“uh-“ he clears his throat sharply, straying away from you as you near. he pulls the hood of his cloak up sharply before muttering: “sure.. tax..”
grabbing an apple glistening the beaming sun, you toss it over in your delicate hand before observing the parchment hanging from the top of the stall with an inkey list of endless prices. “you must be awfully hot under that cloak? it’s the mid of summer no?” you question, peering over to try get a glimpse of the stranger…
“no.” sharply exclaiming, he tucks his hood up even further.
“oh- sorry” you let out a small giggle as you drop a handful of fruit into the woven basket swinging off your brittle arm before rummaging in your fraying purse for some coins.
you continue searching the battered bag as rafe observes you out of the corner of his eye, not yet catching a glimpse of your face.
groaning, you start to place all the produce once in your basket back onto the display before dropping what seems to be an empty coin bag back into the wicker basket.
confusion crosses his face under his tightly pulled hood, do you not have enough coins? he ponders before looking up and peeking at your appearance.
gods! you’re beautiful.. hair that shimmered in the unrelentless summer sun and doll-like skin… your eyes flickered onto his face quickly before he looked away, shuffling further away before coughing.
“do you need some coins?”
“oh- me? oh well.. i mean i have money at home with my family and uh- i don’t have enough to pay for my shopping”
“here” sticking his hand out in what he thinks to be the direction of you, his palm filled with coins. “take them.” he grumbles…
tentatively reaching for them, you grasp the coins firmly before stuffing them into the pockets of your beaten dress. “thank you! thank you very much!” you squeal with glee as you grab a bunch of goods and fruits and dumping them back into your basket.
“what’s your name?” he questions, the girl perplexing him.
“y/n! what’s yours?” the friendly smile obvious in your tone as rafe continued to hide from you, cautious of being recognised and his brief escape from his father being ruined.
mumbling a vague response, he watches you in fascination until a haggered, old man marches over to her suddenly and starts scolding her:
“some daughter! get home now silly girl! you should be looking after your brothers not playing in the market like some whore!” he screeches as he drags you away in a whisk of stock and rage.
glancing up in slight alarm, he watches you get carried away from the market whilst you throws rafe a pleading look over your shoulder.
in all honesty, i plan to write more fics and i love it so much, plus i’ve got a few ideas! but i have so so soooo much studying to do at the moment 😣 so im trying to focus on that as it took me a while to post a single one shot when i last posted, i do have things in my drafts and i will try to add to them slowly until they’re ready to post! but im thinking of writing a couple blurbs, posting head cannons or mood boards instead of the full length one shots i’ve posted? as always feel free to send requests please 💌 thank you all for the love nd support on both my fics too 💞
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI! 18+, smut, language, mentions of blood, reference to fighting, oral (both receiving), kinda mean!rafe (slight degradation), innocent!reader
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: bully!rafe stumbles upon your home after sorting someone out and asks you to patch him up…
𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: sorry it’s been so long since i’ve posted a fic i’ve been super busy studying and this has been rotting in my drafts for like a week cus i couldn’t be bothered to edit it! 😐 also i know it’s not heavy on bully rafe so sorry it’s kinda just for the backstory and reader is kinda naive/innocent. as always please tell me if i’ve missed any warnings! 💐🪽🧸
there was not a single positive thing you could say about rafe cameron. asshole extraordinaire. the boy who’s been picking on you and making your life a living hell for as long as you can possibly remember. all the way from kindergarten to your senior year in high school, he’s been relentless. stealing your backpack and tipping the contents out in the middle of the corridor, classic. when you find peace at lunch time, he steals your tray, classic. catcalling and yelling at you with his cronies when you walk past in the halls, classic.
when you think you’ve managed to avoid him today you haven’t. he always finds a way to make your life miserable.
it used to just be name calling and hair pulling in the playground.
but now? now, his goal is to make you wish you were dead, clearly.
you sigh softly as you mull over the events of today. your knees pressing into your cream velvet stool.
1. rafe threw a rock hard apple at you.
2. rafe opened your locker and stole your lunch bag.
3. rafe called you a “miserable slut” whilst you walked past.
classics. playing some soft music, you stare into your vanity mirror and squeeze out the remaining water from your freshly washed hair. rafes probably having fun with his pals, plotting the next way to make me cry.. great, best look forward to tomorrow.. you think as you slip on your clean pajamas and apply a light body lotion to your skin, the light floral scent swarming your nose and pushing away the thoughts. you wander across your room to your double bed. the pale pink canopy wilting in the evening breeze currently drifting through the slightly ajar window. your plushies aligned perfectly on the side you don’t sleep, and the similar baby pink and cream blankets and throws that cover the sheets. the light rain taps against the window quietly, almost human like, begging to be let inside. turning off the various lamps that were casting a warm glow around your small room, you slip under the blankets and drift into safe sleep.
tap tap tap
you bolt upright, panting as you stare at your alarm clock on your bedside table.
02:01
it glares back at you. must’ve been a bad dream..
tap tap tap
just the rain.. it’s gotten heavier.. you groan as you lay back under the covers, tucking them under your chin.
tap tap tap
what the fu-
whispers.
“hello? who’s there?” you question. becoming more alert, you slip out of bed and scuttle towards your windows. two identical double-hung cream painted windows, currently covered with the same pale pink curtains your daddy used for your canopy. pulling the right window’s curtain back slowly, you sigh in relief. only for the tapping to start again.
tap tap tap
you drop the thin fabric, watching it float back into place from the evening breeze dancing through your other window. hastily stepping left to the other window and pulling back the curtain.
ta-
on the other side, rafe fucking cameron. his left hand raised and frozen, caught during his action of knocking at your window. his fingers adorned with his usual arrangement of gold rings. his knuckles, painted in a maroon. dried blood. his face? lip split, blood flowing freely into his mouth and down to his chin. his right eye, seems as if it’s been dipped in and out of an array of blue and purple paints. his bangs stick flat to his forehead, slick with rain. his what seems to be grey t-shirt, now practically black and plastered to his broad chest. and he’s smirking.
bastard!
you pull up the bottom half of you window, rain spilling onto your light oak floors, pooling like tears. “rafe?” heading tilting, you exclaim in confusion. “wh-what- it’s 2am!”
“i know- i know- just let me in goddamn it!” he hisses, glancing back at rest of your idyllic cul-de-sac in fear. the identical rainbow of houses wrapping around the weary asphalt road. the identical front porches, a rocking chair, a dog bed. the identical front gardens, a flower bed, a stray hose.
you hold out your hand, the harsh night rain pelting onto your skin. rafe grabs it, firm and solid as he clambers into your room.
shutting the window, you must admit the sight of him in your room is rather funny. this imposing, bloodied, muscular man stood in the midst of your bedroom. the same bedroom with plushies, makeup and frilly pastel lingerie scattered around.
shifting his weight slightly and wincing, rafe groans “look.. doll… i was hoping you’d patch me up?”
patch him up? that’s all? he hasn’t come to play some sick trick on you?
“is that all?” you mumble, terrified of what he has planned for you
he nods sharply. “oh..okay..” you murmur before practically running to your small en-suite to grab the first aid kit you keep in there.
scowering through the tiny cabinets that line one of the walls, you snatch the first aid kit and scamper back to rafe. rafe who is now sat on your bed. your pink bed.
letting out a small giggle at the sight, your hand smacks to your mouth in embarrassment.
“what’s funny doll?” rafe smirks, his lips curling softly at the edges, lifting his bloodied face in amusement.
“n-nothing..” you grumble as you hastily move to stand in front of him and you start attending to his various wounds.
a moment. two. three.
oh god this is horrible.. why you?!
“rafe?” you pause. “what happened? why are you here?”
he gaze flits up, meeting yours far too quickly. his ocean like pools of eyes flowing into your vision, consuming your mind.
“what happened?” you repeat softly, trying to break through his rough shell.
he scoffs, sharp. “nothing you should worry your pretty little head about doll. just boys being boys.”
“i mean-“ you question, growing bolder “why are you here?”
he sighs, clearly torn between telling you the truth and telling you lies. “look doll…” another sigh, his hand rakes down his face and his rings catch the dim glow of your fairy lights and lamps scattered around your room. “you-“ a sigh. “you were the only person i could come to.” he exhales sharply. twisting the signet ring on his index finger.
you scoff, sharp and dismissive. “no i wasn’t, you’ve come to play some sick prank on me. just get it over with rafe. please.” you retorted, leaving the room in silence. your manicured hands drift back to the horrible green first aid kit, laying open next to rafe’s thigh. reaching for some more gauze, his large hand engulfs yours.
“doll- please don’t think of me like that” rafe explains. his thumb starting to smooth your skin.
“like what?!” you snap and drop the gauze, tugging your hand out of his before turning your back on him and rummaging through your vanity. the bright white lights of the hollywood mirror shining in your eyes as you pull and rag open every draw possible. dying for a distraction. “think that you’re some bully? because you are rafe!” you pant, moving around your room. your feet connecting with the floorboards as you move swiftly, picking up stray clothes, panties and socks. shoving them into your wash basket before straightening your plushies that align your shelves. watching your with their black beaded eyes.
“doll!” he snaps. causing you to freeze and turn to him. “i’ll explain- but my eyebrow is still split..” he states reluctantly. you pad over to stand in front of him, legs unsteadily swaying as you gather the supplies and lean closer to him. holding your breath, your gentle hands working nimbly on his eyebrow. applying the gauze and tape steadily, despite the small pit of worry forming low within your stomach. you crouch slightly, making both of your eyes level. his ocean blue eyes pouring into your soul and drawing you in, like a fish on a hook. his calloused hands cradling the back of your neck, the immense heading overwhelming your senses. all you can feel is him. the coldness of each ring digging into your skin.
“doll..” he whispers, stroking the nape of your neck, fingers tangling and tugging in your hair, hauling you forwards until your lips crash together.
it’s not soft, nothing like you imagined your first kiss to be like. it’s all teeth and tongue. his teeth clashing against yours as he threatens to fuse himself with you. his tongue slipping past your agape mouth, exploring your mouth. his lips keep moving, his tongue sliding through your cheeks and teeth. it’s all passion, nothing soft, nothing gentle. it’s all rafe. all consuming. and before you know it, your tugged onto his lap. his hands roaming your curves, squeezing your ass whilst he tugs your hair. his hand trail up to your breasts, touching and kneading every inch of flesh on your body before he reaches them. suddenly, it’s all gone. all the heat, all the passion. his lips.
he’s stopped?
awkwardly blushing, you turn your head adverting your gaze. “oh god-“ you squeak, petrified. “i’m sorry! it was my first kiss and i..”
a rough hand in your jaw. his hand, snapping your head back in line with his.
“shut up.” he snaps before gesturing to the- oh fuck! that’s big!- the outline of his cock in his dark, rough denim blue jeans. still some blood splatted on in little drops every here and there but fuck.. that’s his dick?
you can feel the heat rushing to your face and tinging the tips of your ears pink.. “i.. i… i did that?” you mumble. your gaze looking at anywhere but his. looking past his shoulder, observing each of your plushies, looking at your nails, how the polish on your pinky has slightly chipped.
“look at me when i speak to you doll” he retorts, snatching your jaw in one rough hand again, his callouses a sharp contrast to your smooth skin. “you did that, and you’re going to sort it. understand?” his eyes locking on yours, searching for an answer.
“h-how..” you whisper, still trying to squirm away from him.
“suck me off on your knees in lingerie like a good pretty thing.” he grins wickedly, his dimples flashing in pure sadistic glee.
forcing your eyes shut as tightly as possible, trying to wake up from this some sort of dream or nightmare.
you can feel the wave of hot breath pass over your face as he scoffs and brings your face closer to his.
“i want you to choke on my cock doll.”
opening your eyes slowly, lushes fluttering weakly, like butterflies trapped in a cage. you stand. and start to work at taking off your pyjamas. peeling away your pale pink babydoll, you drop it in his lap as you stand there before him. in nothing but a matching bubblegum pink lace thong and identical lace bra.
“knees.” rafe commands, making a downwards movement with two fingers, before disregarding your babydoll behind him somewhere on the floor.
you drop to your knees and kneel as your eyes stayed glued to rafes movements. his belt buckle clinks as he slides it off and tosses it. the same with his dark denim jeans. and now all you can see is the angry red tip of his cock seeping with pre-cum as it peers out of his calvin klein’s. watching him sliding them down his muscular thighs and throw them onto your bed, you whine. thighs pressing together as you can’t help the wave of arousal that passes over you. parting your lips willingly, your tongue shoots out to the tip. lapping at the pre-cum like a kitten with milk. rafe shifts, pushing his hips up, forcing it into your mouth.
“do it fuckin’ properly yeah?” he threads his fingers into your locks once again at pushes your throat down. the warmth of your throat enclosing his veiny cock fully as you whine and gag.
“there we are huh.” a sharp laugh “fuck doll- i love this goddamn pretty mouth, so warm and soft..”
you blubber, gasp for air through your nose, beg to the gods above to keep your lungs working as you continue to choke around his thickness. tears streaming freely down your face, onto your neck and breasts. hollowing your cheeks, you attempt to at least try to bob your head up and down but fuck was it hard. fuck was his dick big. you can hear rafes moaning and profuse sounds floating out of his mouth get more excessive. until your head is suddenly pulled off him.
“‘m close..” rafe whines, as his hand wraps around the base of his angry cock an starts to pump up and down, up and down. you whine in unison, as you rest your cheek on his knee, rubbing it back and forwards. begging for more. “doll!-“ he moans as he strokes your damp hair and ropes of cum come shooting out of the head of his cock. dripping down your neck and onto your chest. “fuck.” he pants before pulling your onto his lap.
“is my little slut needy hm?” rafe asks, his head tilting to one side in mock concern before slipping off your tiny bra and ragging your panties down. pressing your fleshy thighs together in part need and part embarrassment, rafe scoffs and pries them open with both of his hands. “no hiding from me, i wanna see this little pussy, lay down.” he jerks his head in the direction of the rest of your bed, signalling for you to wait for him. you hum an agreement as you crawl from his lap onto your pink covers and bundles of blankets. you watch him closely as a wide smirk pulls against his face as he brings his eyes level to your still clamped shut thighs.
“ah ah, no hiding from me. what did i say doll? open.” he commands as he taps your thigh once.
immediately parting your thighs, you watch as his grin becomes bigger. you can see him inspecting over detail of your folds and nub, planning and plotting. “fuck doll..” he says with a low chuckle, “she’s so pretty and wet huh? and your damn hole is clenching on nothing… how about i change that hm?” he rumbles.
the word “change” shoots to your head. fuck! nodding over and over again, you let out a string of yeses and moans. pleading for his touch, his relief. feeling his fingers snake up your inner thigh and prod your glistening folds, you whine and buck your hips needily. “sh sh now doll, patience” he murmurs as you watch his tongue connect with your nub. letting out a shrill cry, his tongue plunges deeper into your hole. fuck he looked beautiful, his curtain bangs sweaty, dried blood crusting on his face and patches of tape and gauze laying dotted around his face.
“fuck i should’ve spent less time teasing you and more time eating this cunt…” he groans before plunging straight back into your puffy cunt, lapping and licking like a starving man.
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+, language, smut, p in v, vaginal fingering, cnc? (does it without full coherent consent?) rafe kinda takes advantage of reader, slight exhibition risk, mention of head (m receiving) innocent!reader, mean!rafe towards the end, lots of dirty talk, slight daddy kink, slapping, slight mention of neglect, mentions of divorce, mentions of bourbon + weed + red bull
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: innocent!reader visits the cameron’s, as she does weekly, with her parents. but this time as she confides in the eldest cameron child and her best friend, rafe over her parents failing marriage, he attempts to comfort you…
𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: quick little mssg before you read this is my first ever fic i’ve wrote so im so so sorry if it’s absolutely awful! also please add in the comments or pm me if there are any warnings i forgot to include and any requests for a fic! enjoy angels! 💐🪽🧸
you and rafe were inseparable.
still are.
since the early age of four in he’s been following you around like a lost puppy. constantly trying to get your attention, the poor boy. you often saw his constant need and struggle for someone to just care for him as an affect of his asshole of a father mainly bringing him up.
your parents just somehow managed to strengthen your bond with him by becoming closer to one another themselves. during your childhood and with rafe, your parents obviously drifted closer by spending practically every weekend together. of course they would, naturally. both your mother and his step mother, rose, are wealthy, snobby women of the upper side in the outer banks. and your fathers? please. they could be brothers.
ward cameron, business fiend and dickhead supreme, clearly is best suited to become bourbon drinking buddies with your father. every tuesday, thursday and saturday without a doubt your father is “invited” over to the cameron household. therefore meaning you and your mother have to come too.
now after years of these years and many similar nights, you don’t mind. i mean, you are visiting your little rafe…
knock knock knock
“darling i’m sure ward will love your bourbon you brought don’t worry dear” standing on the cameron manor porch, your mother attempts to reassure and calm your father by pressing a haste kiss to his stubbly cheek. smoothing down his suit, she shuffles backwards as he scoffs and glares at her.
“why wouldn’t he maria?! it’s bourbon from fucking germany, the best bourbon making country in the goddamn world.” father sighs, agitated once again. muttering something about her being a stupid woman. you stand there, behind them both. watching mother, her long, recently blown out hair floating in the wind, revealing the open back of her pastel blue sundress. and watching father too. his broad shoulders filling most of the imposing cameron manor front door’s frame. his grey suit reflecting him beautifully. bland and fucking boring. your hands start twisting with your silver bracelets and small golden rings as you try to become invisible. as you try to keep out of your parents fraying marriage and their ongoing petty arguments once again.
the door swings open.
rose cameron stands there, rafes step mother. her short blonde hair is recently bleached and shoved behind her ears. flaunting her iridescent mauve jumpsuit and boisterous, awfully chunky gold necklace. she paints a firm smile onto her matching mauve lips and pushes her hair even further behind her ears. the glow of the metal of the bangles on her wrist catch the setting evening sun and flash into your eyes, blinding you for a second.
“maria! damien! welcome!” she reaches forward and pecks your mother’s cheeks swiftly, peering over her shoulder at you in slight disgust. “i see you all made it fine! me and ward were awfully worried about the god awful weather in paris stopping you from flying home from france… he would be horrified if he missed his bourbon drinking date” rose smiles, her cheeks plastered with foundation, rising like cakes being baked. “oh silly me- come in come in! we have so much to talk about maria.. i mean we have to plan midsummers and the food and outfits- oh and damien, you know where ward is” she lets out a sharp chuckle and beams brightly. rose doesn’t even bother you a second glance as she ushers your parents inside, leaving you standing on the porch. the soft breeze playing with your hair.
what a bitch.. you sigh, your shoulders drooping. rafe must be upstairs like always.
you slide into the manor. quiet, invisible one again. pressing the grand double doors shut and starting to trail up the winding staircase.
after a moment climbing up the spiralling stairs and scurrying across the landing, you stop outside rafe’s door.
knock knock knock
“rafey? it’s me?” you murmur to the door, praying he’s inside.
a moment.
the door pulls open.
inside? stands rafe, low slung grey sweatpants, gold chain around his neck, red bull can in hand.
his room? you peek inside, well you try to. it’s mostly dark. all his blinds are shut, and the only light, apart from the glow of his flatscreen tv opposite his bed is crawling underneath his curtains. the hum of some faint song by someone like chase atlantic or the weeknd dances around the room and the faint smell of weed and aftershave wraps around you, embracing you into a warm, familiar hug.
“doll- i- hey” he smirks, before snatching your wrist and pulling you into his den.
he plops onto the crimson velvet couch at the end of his king size bed before drawing a blunt out of his pocket and dropping his empty red bull can onto the floor with a clatter.
holding the not lit blunt in his teeth, he grabs one of the stray hoodies laying on his floor before pulling it over his head. he flickers his lighter, pulled from his pocket and lights the blunt. takes an inhale and blows out a small cloud of smoke. “cmon bun” grinning ear to ear, he pats his thigh “sit, you know i don’t bite”
you giggle, a sweet melodic tune that dances throughout rafe’s brain.
fuckk…. he thinks..
he drags a rough hand over his face, making some attempt to clean his impure brain of the image of you on your knees in between his thighs with his thick cock wrapped around your pretty pink lips.
you toe off your polished black mary jane’s, leaving them by his bedroom door before pushing it shut quietly. you scuttle over, slipping and sliding all over his recently waxed hardwood floor with your pale pink frilly socks covering your small feet.
he smirks again.. this sweet, sweet girl.
“hi rafey” you murmur whilst you plop onto his lap with a faint thud.
“miss’d you bunny” he immediately lets his hands wander over your waist and he pulls you up so you’re laying back onto his chest as he grabs his playstation controller before starting to play his game. some fighting game no doubt.
“me too rafey..” you coo “im sorry i went away for so long.. france was boring, mom just wanted to drink and dad just wanted to scream at her..im here now though” you say before offering him a weak smile.
“oh bun.. they still rocky?” he hums, pressing you into his side more.
“mhm..i- uh- heard them yelling over some papers the other night too when i was trying to sleep.. its all going wrong rafey i’ve wanted to speak to you for ages but-” you mumble, turning your head so you can bury your lightly dolled up face into his bare bicep.
“oh pretty..” he sighs, stroking your hair like a puppy’s soft fur coat “it’ll be for the best if they divorce hm? yeah?”
“yeah.. you’re right.. i mean at least i might be able to at least sleep then? right?” trying to laugh at your own joke, you press your face further into his arm, turning slightly more so you can lay on his chest better.
“mh yeah good girl.. you can move in with me too if you want when i get my own place later this year hm? jus’ us two in a big house while i finish college yeah?”
“yeah.. uh- i’d like that… yeah..” you whimper. a tear. two tears. three. four. a stream. a river.
“shi- no no bunny don’t cry.. shh… sh..”
sobbing, you grasp his neck and cry softly into his shoulder.
blubbering uselessly, you try to form some coherent thought “b-but- m…m-my d-dad-d-daddy! n-no l…li-like me”
“don’t stress bun.. yeah? fuck your dad. that’s what i say.” he cradles your head, his golden rings that adorn each finger glint in the glow of his tv and his fingers rake through your hair, the playstation controller forgotten. “i can be your daddy for all you care bun.. let rafey care for you.. let me help you.. please pretty girl” he whines pathetically.
you nod mindlessly whilst continuing to whimper and sniffle into his chest.
you don’t even notice he’s manage to hike your baby pink floral print sundress dress up to your waist until his thick golden brown fingers dance along your inner thigh, trickling into your panties quietly.
“shh.. rafe’s got you bun.. focus on me hm?” you can almost hear the smugness melting off his tongue and into his speech, bastard.
you look down at your thighs, expecting to just see his hand squeezing and kneading the flesh. oh-! shit. when did he take my underwear off-.
a pinch, a stoke of your little nub. “r-rafe!”
“you like tha’ hm? shh.. shh.. dry those eyes babygirl.. no crying for rafe”
a finger.. or is it three? press inside of you suddenly.
“mh!” you whine like a needy puppy, for a different reason this time. not crying over your stupid parents, but your best friend.
“sh.” he hisses “keep quiet now, wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to find out their precious girl is being finger fucked by her best friend now would we?”
you shake your head, frantic. “n-no…”
“good girl.. open wide for rafe now” he taps your sealed lips with his cum slicked index and middle finger before forcing your soaked through pink lace panties into your waiting mouth. his fingers slide back down to your puffy folds and little hole, that’s currently clenching on air. trailing his middle finger down from your clit, he thrusts it in. the contrast of the cool metal of the ring on his finger and the warmness of your walls making you sharply inhale.
squelch squelch squelch
the wet, grotesque squelching sounds of his sound fingers thrusting into you and spreading your wetness around your folds fill the air.
another finger presses into your hole. roughly curling around the point, that fills your vision with stars and black, he found so well. so quickly.
eyes rolling back, you buck your hips, frantic. humping his hand, you groan. silently begging and pleading for permission to come.
“nuh uh, too soon bun.. i’ve not even got my cock out yet and you want to squirt all over my fingers?” he scoffs “pathetic slut” he spits at you, and a firm slap is delivered meanly to your pulsing folds making you jump.
suddenly, you’re not on his lap. you’re bent over the arm of the crimson couch, the plush velvet digging into your knees as rafe rams his mean cock into your folds from behind.
“uh-mh-mm!” you whine and squirm, pleading for more friction.
“if i knew you were this much of a slut my dick wouldn’t have left this tight cunt in years…” he pants, breathing heavily. “take it- mh.. some best friend you are” he chuckles as he bullies his cock into you, the angry red tip prodding your cervix, inching you closer to your orgasm every thrust. his balls burying into the curve of your plump ass. “oh bun- she’s just swallowing me whole.. greedy hole gripping my cock so well, taking rafey so well hm?”
despite his roughness, rafe continues to stroke your hair somehow comfortingly, tugging every few moments as the odd ring on his finger gets stuck in your locks.
“see bun? it’s okay, you’ve got me, fuck your parents yeah? jus’ need- m..me… rafe” he groans as he gets closer to his climax.
“god i’ve been waiting to do this for years..” he murmurs as he leans down to nibble your shoulder as he continues to ram into you unrelentingly, the wet sounds now more violent and vicious.
