SAV @namelesssav - Tumblr Blog

parental advisory unless you can handle it.

all the bedtime stories that i love belongs here

xoxo,

𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚.💋

#intro post #pinned intro #yourrockstargf #parental advisory #lustposting #matthew bernard sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chratt sturniolo

ariestrxsh

C.S | Pool Boy

(ᯤ) 𝓟𝓸𝓸𝓵 𝓑𝓸𝔂 - 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷 𝓢𝓪𝓵𝓬𝓲𝓭𝓸, 𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓮

ⓘ smut, poolboy!chris x trophywife!reader, switch!chris, age gap (chris is 22 and reader is 30), dubcon, groping, voyeurism, cheating, praise, oral (m & f!receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, size kink, dumbification (if you squint), breeding kink, chris is a little pervy

"...I think you missed a spot on your back. here, let me get it..."

dividers by @he-cannoli-foolhimself

kissmeuntil

⎯⎯⎯; 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧’ 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: best friend!rafe cameron x female!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mdni. friends to lovers, aphrodisiac/honey packets, explicit sexual content, mutual sexual tension, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, switch dynamics, light hair pulling, biting, neck holding, creampie, brief mentions of squirting, aggressive sex, topper thornton being an accidental matchmaker.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: topper swears the honey packets work, you swear they’re bullshit, and rafe decides there’s only one way to prove him wrong. unfortunately, the honey has other plans.

𝐚/𝐧: this is equal parts friends-to-lovers, “we’re definitely not into each other” denial, and absolute stupidity. everyone is an adult. please read the warnings before continuing. i kept editing and fixing and changing this. after a while it was turning into that series of events where you take a selfie and keep looking at it until you hate it LOL so i kinda gave up. hopefully it makes sense and hopefully you guys like it anyway :) ♡

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.7k

kissmeuntil

⎯⎯⎯; 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: therapist!rafe x sex addict!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mdni. therapist/patient relationship, unethical therapy, professional boundary violations, power imbalance, emotional dependency, obsessive thoughts, explicit sexual content, fingering, edging/orgasm denial, dirty talk, discussion of compulsive sexual behavior/sex addiction, unhealthy relationship dynamics, and emotional manipulation.

this work is entirely fictional and is not intended to romanticize or endorse therapist-patient relationships or unethical clinical conduct.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: twenty six sessions in, you're still pretending dr. cameron is just your therapist. he's still pretending he doesn't look forward to thursday evenings. you've told him everything except the truth, that every fantasy you've had for months ends with him.

𝐚/𝐧: a serious genius sent me this idea. i'm so so happy they did because i had a similar idea previously but didn't have the courage to pursue it due to... well. you know. which is funny because i've written much more taboo content. anyway, if you're reading this my love, thank you for the courage! this story explores quiet obsession and an intentionally unethical therapist/patient relationship. none of this is meant to reflect healthy therapy or healthy relationships. please read the warnings before continuing. ♡

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.9k

rafesbabybunny777

❝ RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST | by: @/rafesbabybunny777 ⊹ ִ࣪⃝🐰 · ⁺ 𝅄 ּ＿ ( nsfw ) ☆ . .

- ☆ Frat boy rafe headcanons

- ☆ Nerd!rafe headcanons

- ☆ Blowjob | nerd!rafe

- ☆ Better than your boyfriend | your boyfriend's friend

- ☆ Strawberry & Soap | Predatory!Rafe x Bimbo!Reader.

- ☆ Titfuck | Friends with Benefits

- ☆ Happy birthday, brat | Birthday Sex

- ☆ A Little Sugar | Predatory!Rafe x Bimbo!Reader.

- ☆ Punishment | Possessive!rafe

- ☆ Academic Stress & Sexual Frustration | Nerd!Rafe

- ☆ Deep Sleep | StepBro!Rafe • PART ONE

- ☆ Bad Influence | Toxic!Rafe x Good!Girl Reader !

- ☆ Safe Harbor | Bf!Rafe

- ☆ Deep Sleep | StepBro!Rafe • PART TWO

- ☆ Dilf!Rafe | Headcanons

- ☆ Homecoming | Military!Rafe

- ☆ Kook Princess, Pogue Heart | Brother!Rafe

- ☆ Tiredness | Bf!Rafe x Tired Reader

- ☆ Pleasure in Panic | Ghostface!Rafe

- ☆ Pretty Tattoo | Bsf!Rafe

- ☆ Filthy And Beautiful | Bf!Rafe

- ☆ On your knees | Submissive!Rafe

- ☆ His Perfect Toy | Toxic!Rafe

- ☆ Vanity & Ink | Nerd!Rafe

Rafe Cameron p!links

- ☆ Bimbo!Reader

- ☆ Frat Boy!Rafe

rafesbabybunny777

Kook Princess, Pogue Heart | Brother!Rafe ♡ FEM READER !

-masterlist-

Warnings: Incest, rough sex, creampie, rafe and the reader are half-siblings, mention of alcohol, virgin reader & cowgirl position.

Note: yes, baddies, I like writing about disgusting and dirty topics because I know many of my readers ask for it, and their wish is my command. That being said, don't bother me; if you don't like it, don't read it. bye

This was a request from -> @cameronprincess-01 xoxo 💋

The click of the cooling metal from the motorcycle still echoed on the porch, but the noise that truly bothered Rafe was the silence of that house since you decided to show your face again. He tossed the keys onto the sideboard carelessly, feeling that familiar burn in his chest. Years away, living with your mother in another city, had changed nothing for him. In Rafe's head, you were still the intruder, Ward's favorite little girl; even from a distance, you received the bank transfers and the affectionate calls, while he stayed behind, enduring his father's orders and looks of contempt.

Rafe vaguely remembered when you two were children before you left, but the image of his little half sister had been replaced by this current version that he simply couldn't process. Seeing you back, deciding to live under the same roof as him after so long, was a personal insult. He loathed the fact that, despite you choosing to leave one day, their father still treated you as if you were made of porcelain now that you had returned, while he was the watchdog tasked with monitoring your every step.

"Funny how you come running back to Daddy when your Mommy’s money gets tight, isn't it?"

He let the words out with that crooked smile, stopping in the middle of the room just to block your path. Rafe loved how quickly you lost your patience. He fed on the arguments, the times you accused him of invading your space or messing with your things since moving back. Deep down, he knew he was invasive; in truth, he wanted to know what you were hiding, he wanted to understand who you had become in all those years you were away from him.

"Daddy gave me babysitting duty, so if I were you, I’d start telling me exactly where you’re hanging out with those starving Pogue friends of yours."

He took a step forward, closing the distance between you until the scent of your hair hit him full on. It was a mistake. Rafe felt a lump in his throat as he realized that, behind all that accumulated hatred and the rivalry for attention, there was something new and absurdly wrong.

He hated how beautiful you looked when you were furious, with your eyes on fire; it was mental torture. He wanted to destroy you for coming home and stealing the little peace he had with Ward, but at the same time, he couldn't look away from you for a single second so beautiful, so different...

"Fuck off, Rafe, I don't owe you any explanations, I'm not 8 years old anymore."

Your voice came out with a conviction that echoed off the high walls of the living room, but he only rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by your stubbornness and your dirty mouth. Rafe couldn't process the logic of that scene. To him, it was a complete absurdity that you, wearing designer clothes and having everything of the best offered on a silver platter by Ward and your mother, still chose to shove yourself into the mud with those people from the island he despised so much.

He looked at you and saw someone who had the world in their hands. You had present parents, you had attention, you had the financial and emotional support he never knew. While you received pampering, Rafe didn't even know his own mother's whereabouts, and his father, who should have been his pillar, seemed not to give a fuck about his existence unless it was to demand results or use his son to clean up his mess.

"You’re an ungrateful piece of shit."

He said, spitting the words, his voice loaded with a venom that came from a very deep place. Rafe took another step, invading your personal space until you could feel the heat coming from his body an intimidating and chaotic presence.

"You have everything, you have Daddy eating out of your hand, and you still want to play at being a Pogue? Is that what you want? To throw this whole privileged life in the trash to run with swamp rats?"

His gaze was fixed on yours, gleaming with a mixture of fury and something he refused to name. Rafe felt a tightness in his chest seeing that you didn't shrink away from him. On the contrary, your defiance instigated him in a sickly way. He wanted to shake you, he wanted you to understand how much he hated the fact that you had everything he had always begged for, but at the same time, he felt an overwhelming urge to simply never let you leave that room again.

"You have no idea what it's like to have no one, so stop acting like you're the voice of reason. As long as you’re living here, you’re going to follow my rules, because I am your older brother."

"I'm sorry things haven't been perfect for you, but it's not my fault."

You dropped the phrase with a dry tone, feeling the weight of that argument drag on like all the others. Deep down, you knew you were being a bitch, acting with a coldness that only served to poke at his open wounds, but your patience had evaporated long ago. It was the same cycle as always.

"You really don't understand anything..."

Rafe murmured, his voice failing for a second before he brought his fingers to his mouth, biting his nails with a nervous ferocity. It was a habit he tried to hide, but it always appeared when he felt cornered or diminished. He looked at you as if you were an enigma he hated not being able to solve, a mix of envy for your perfect life and a latent rage because you didn't see the privilege you had.

"You don't boss me around."

You declared, taking a firm step back and breaking eye contact. That was the last straw. You always hated receiving orders, you always questioned every rule imposed by Ward, and having Rafe try to act like he owned you was simply unbearable. You were no longer the child who accepted being intimidated by his outbursts.

Rafe stood there, watching your distancing with an expression that oscillated between pure hatred and a void. The silence that followed was cut only by his heavy breathing. He wanted to scream, he wanted to break something, but what hurt him the most was realizing that, no matter how much he tried to control you under his father's orders, you were the only thing on that island he would never truly be able to possess.

"Go then, run to your friends."

He said, his voice now low and laden with bitterness, as he watched you walk away.

"But don't come running back home or to me when they cast you aside."

Rafe turned his back with tense shoulders, his whole body rigid. You went up the stairs without looking back, each step echoing on the expensive marble of the mansion, completely ignoring anything he might say or any last minute provocation. Rafe suddenly fell silent, his silence being almost scarier than the shouting. He didn't say anything else because, deep down, that truth hit him: nothing he said would make a difference to you now.

He stood there at the foot of the stairs, watching you disappear upstairs. His fingers still sought his lips compulsively, biting what remained of his nails while frustration consumed him from within. To Rafe, the fact that you no longer cared about his threats was the worst form of torture. He preferred your hatred, he preferred your screams anything was better than this indifference that made it clear how much he had lost control of the situation.

In your room, the vibe was different, filled with the muffled sound of some music and the glow of the vanity lights. You looked at yourself in the mirror while adjusting the final details; the purple dress fit perfectly, highlighting your curves in a way you knew would draw attention. Your makeup was flawless, accentuating your gaze in a way that made you feel powerful, ready to face the night.

On top of the furniture, your phone wouldn't stop vibrating. They were messages from John B, anxiously asking what time you would finally arrive at the party. You let out a low laugh, feeling a lightness that only your friends from the other side of the island could provide. You typed a quick reply, promising not to be long, and dropped the device onto the wood of the vanity with a dry click.

Your hair fell beautifully loose like cascades over your shoulders, shining as you moved. With a final sigh of satisfaction, you grabbed your bag and left the room. As you went down the stairs, your shoes made a rhythmic sound in the silence of the mansion. You looked around, scanning the living room with your eyes as you approached the exit.

There was no sign of Rafe anywhere. Where he previously exuded that chaotic and heavy energy, now only the void of expensive, impersonal furniture remained. It was a momentary relief, a break in the pressure that seemed to crush your chest whenever he was around. Without a second thought, you just opened the main door, feeling the humid night air hit your face, and left without looking back.

As soon as you stepped into the party, the deep bass of the music and the heat of the people around seemed to wash away any trace of that heavy energy. It took almost no time for you to infiltrate your friends' circle, feeling the welcome that only that side of the island knew how to offer. The atmosphere was one of total freedom, and you soon found yourself with a cup in hand, accepting every shot they offered without thinking about tomorrow.

The alcohol started to kick in fast, leaving everything lighter and brighter. You laughed at any silly comment from John B or the inside jokes from JJ, feeling that silly and genuine joy that made you giggle like an idiot in the middle of the group. It was as if, for a few hours, you could forget that you carried the most hated last name in the swamp.

The party was completely packed, an organized chaos under improvised lights. While your eyes scanned the place between one sip and another, you realized how much time had passed.

There were many unfamiliar faces there, new people who had arrived or grown up while you were away from Outer Banks, living with your mother. That feeling of being a stranger in your own home hit from time to time, but it was soon smothered by more loud music and another toast with the group.

"You guys have no idea how much I missed you!"

You shouted over the noise, feeling the humid night breeze mess up your hair while you got lost in that crowd. To you, being there was your purest act of rebellion, a way of telling yourself that, despite sleeping under Ward’s roof and putting up with Rafe’s outbursts, your heart still belonged to that toes in the sand mess.

Time seemed to have turned into a blurry, warm fog as the hours passed. You walked along the edge of the beach, feeling the damp sand between your toes and the cold dawn wind hitting your face, which caused a strange contrast with the heat of the alcohol in your blood. You held a half empty bottle of tequila, swinging it distractedly while trying to focus your gaze on the dark horizon of the sea. At some point in that confusion of music and laughter, you had lost your friends, but the solitude now felt like a gift compared to the party.

It was already past midnight when you felt the persistent vibration in your dress pocket. The device seemed to burn against your leg. You pulled the phone out with some difficulty, blinking your eyes to be able to read the name glowing on the screen. It was Rafe. You had a vague memory of having blocked his number weeks ago in one of your fits of rage, but Rafe was like a persistent plague; he always found a way to get your contact again, whether by taking Ward's phone or bribing someone.

He was calling nonstop, one call after another, in a frenetic rhythm that made his nervous state clear. Tired of that insistence and with your head throbbing from the drink, you simply slid your finger across the screen and turned the device off for good, feeling a childish pleasure as the light went out.

On the other side of the island, the sudden silence of the call dropping into voicemail was like a trigger for Rafe. He was in the mansion's living room, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, squeezing his phone so hard his knuckles were white. Fury bubbled in his chest, a mixture of distorted concern and that possessive desire for control he could never appease.

"Ungrateful... damn ungrateful brat."

He growled into the empty room, tossing the phone onto the couch. Rafe didn't need a tracker or confessions to know where you were. He knew your habits and knew exactly what kind of trash you frequented just to get at him. He could already perfectly visualize the scene of you surrounded by Pogues, laughing at their unfunny jokes, and the idea of another man touching you or just looking at you in that way he forbade himself from looking was enough to make him lose his mind once and for all. Without a second thought, he grabbed his father's car keys, heading out the door with a single goal in mind.

Rafe turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared, reflecting exactly his state of mind. He wasn't playing around. He drove fast, cutting through the dark roads of Outer Banks with a haste that bordered on dangerous, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard the tendons in his arms stood out. Each second that passed without knowing where you were felt like an eternity of bad thoughts corroding his mind.

When Rafe finally crossed over to the south side of the island, the place he so deplored, the contempt was immediate. He rolled his eyes seeing the smoke from the bonfires and smelling the cheap beer in the air. He parked the car haphazardly and stepped out, slamming the door, advancing through the crowd like a hurricane. Rafe didn't ask for permission; he pushed anyone in his way, his eyes fixed on the mass of people searching for a flash of that beautiful hair or the shimmer of that purple dress.

"Move the fuck out of the way!"

He growled at a boy who stumbled into his path, without even looking back. In his head, he tried desperately to convince himself that all that effort was just a tedious obligation. He told himself he was only there so he wouldn't have to hear Ward’s shouting the next morning or receive a scolding for failing in his mission as an older brother.

But as he pushed deeper into the party, the truth was much more suffocating than any fear of his father. He needed to see you. He needed to be sure you were okay, that you hadn't gotten into a fight or, worse yet, that you weren't tossed onto some random idiot's bed, laughing at things he would never understand. The idea of someone else having access to what he considered his even in a distorted and forbidden way was what truly moved him through that mud. Rafe's heart beat fast against his ribs, a mixture of fury and a silent dread that, perhaps, you had found something in that place that he would never be able to offer you.

It didn't take long for Rafe's sharp gaze to cut through the darkness of the beach and find you there, away from all the noise and the light of the bonfire. He couldn't understand why you had isolated yourself, but the sight of you alone with that bottle in hand triggered something in him that was impossible to brake. He advanced across the sand with heavy steps and, before you could react, you felt his fingers close firmly around your arm, pulling you close with a jolt.

"Are you crazy, you idiot?"

His voice came out low and loaded with an aggressiveness that made you shudder. He leaned over you, invading your space in a suffocating way, almost as if he were going to step inside you, that's how close he was. The shock was immediate, but you weren't as drunk as he imagined; the alcohol had only left your senses sharper and your patience even shorter.

"Who told you I was here?"

You questioned with wide eyes, feeling a mix of confusion and irritated curiosity. You still had a total sense of what was happening and could feel the heat of his breath against your face, which made the situation much more dangerous than if you were blacked out.

"Shut your mouth and come home with me now, do you understand?"

Rafe gave no room for discussion. His tone was a direct order, dry, without any trace of patience. He squeezed your arm a bit more, not to hurt you, but to ensure you wouldn't run. He looked at you with an intensity that bordered on despair, as if the simple fact of you being there, breathing the same air as those people he hated, was a personal insult to his existence.

You felt the urge to hit back, to scream that he had no right over you, but the way he stared at you, eyes fixed on yours and jaw locked, made it clear he wouldn't leave that spot without you. Rafe was at his limit, and you, even conscious, realized that playing with that fire in the middle of the night could have consequences neither of you was ready to face.

The air between you seemed to have vanished, leaving only that heavy heat that always arose at the worst times. Your eyes were full, glistening, perhaps from the effect of the drink or just from the intensity of the moment. Rafe was so close, his breath hitting your skin, that your logical reasoning simply stopped working. The world around you the party, the friends all became an irrelevant blur.

He looked at you in a strange way, a mixture of shock and a desire he tried to hide behind fury. His hand still squeezed your arm, but the pressure changed; it was no longer a command for you to leave, it was as if he were holding on so as not to collapse right there. Rafe realized that, this time, you didn't even try to dodge or fight him. You stood there, motionless, defying the danger he represented with your own body.

Without delay and without giving time for fear to take control, you broke the final centimeter of distance and sealed Rafe's lips.

It was an urgent kiss, loaded with all the resentment and forbidden attraction that had been simmering since you returned to the island. In the back of your mind, a low voice said that this was a colossal mistake, but you silenced it quickly. After all, tomorrow would be easy. Tomorrow you could simply wake up and blame all the tequila, saying the alcohol had clouded your judgment.

But the moment you felt his mouth against yours, you realized Rafe wasn't fighting back. On the contrary, the grip on your arm loosened only so he could wrap his hand around your waist, pulling you even closer, as if he had been waiting for that disaster. The kiss tasted of sin and the sea, and as the world spun slowly, you knew that, drink or not, nothing in that house would ever be the same again.

Rafe's conscience weighed like a ton of lead, hitting hard against his chest as reality began to seep into the heat of the moment. A silent panic took hold of him as his eyes quickly scanned the darkness around them anyone could appear there at any second, some drunk Pogue or a curious partygoer. What would they think seeing two siblings kissing on the beach? The taste of your mouth was too delicious for him, something that numbed him and made him feel like he could swallow you whole if he could, but the instinct for preservation and the morality he still carried or at least thought he carried made him pull away abruptly as soon as his mind cleared a bit.

"Fuck... never do that again... it was a mistake, walk to the car..."

He said in a low voice, almost a broken whisper. The fury from before had disappeared, giving way to a dense guilt that seemed to suffocate him. Rafe couldn't look directly into your eyes, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to regain the posture of authority that had crumbled in seconds.

"Why? Do I not kiss well?"

You toyed with the situation, letting a sarcastic smile play on your lips as you walked beside him across the sand. The alcohol still gave you that reckless courage, and you enjoyed seeing how perturbed he was. Even so, you followed his order, knowing perfectly well that the atmosphere would become unbearable if you decided to stand your ground right then.

"Don't talk nonsense, forget this crap."

He replied sharply, but without the conviction from before. Rafe walked hurriedly, his heavy steps sinking into the damp sand as if he wanted to run from his own shadow. He wanted to believe that had been just a delusion caused by exhaustion and the toxicity of that island, but the touch of your lips still burned on his, making it impossible to erase what had just happened. For Rafe, the path to the car would be the longest of his life, carrying the weight of a secret that now united them in a way he could never justify.

The way back was total silence. You spent the whole time with your head leaned against the glass, feeling the sway of the car while Rafe drove with his eyes fixed on the road. Right at the start of the trip, he had snatched the tequila bottle from your hand and tossed it out the window without a word, just to watch the glass shatter on the asphalt.

When you finally arrived home, the air seemed to have gotten even heavier. The massive living room was empty, but the tension between you filled every corner. Rafe stopped halfway, tossing the keys onto the table with a dry sound that echoed through everything.

Neither of you knew what to do or what to say. You stood near the stairs, feeling the effect of the drink wear off and reality hit head on. Rafe avoided looking at you, keeping his hands in his pockets and his jaw locked, as if he were trying to process the mistake they had committed minutes ago.

You took a step forward, breaking the ice he tried to maintain between you.

"Aren't you going to say anything to me, Rafe?"

The question floated in the air, forcing him out of his own trance. He managed to look at you fixedly for a few moments, but soon shifted focus, scratching his nose and running a hand through his hair, fighting the impulse to look at you too much. The light in the room made it clear how uncomfortable he was.

"There's nothing to say, go to your room."

He said, leaning against the wall of the house and crossing his arms, trying in every way to sound indifferent. But his voice came out lower than usual, without that customary arrogance. Rafe was using the wall as a support, not just for his body, but to keep it from showing that the kiss was still messing up everything he thought about you.

You stood there for another second, observing how he avoided your gaze. He wanted you to go up so he could finally breathe, but the way he squeezed his own arms showed he wasn't going to forget what happened as quickly as he was ordering you to.

You took another step, shortening the distance until he had nowhere else to run. The space between you vanished and your voice came out low, loaded with a provocation you knew would disarm him completely.

"So we’re not going to talk about the kiss? We’re going to pretend it didn't happen and that you didn't like it?"

Rafe's body locked against the wall, his breathing getting heavy as you got too close. The tone of your voice was purely seductive, and he felt a shiver run down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold of the night.

"Because it seemed like you liked it a lot by the way you grabbed me..."

Hearing that, Rafe felt the blood rush to his face. He tried to maintain the mask of indifference, but his eyes betrayed the effort, dropping for a second to your mouth before returning to your eyes. He was cornered by his own will. His hand, which had been closed in a fist, relaxed against the wall, and he let out a dry, nervous laugh while trying to turn his face so as not to yield to the temptation to pull you close again.

"Shut up," he murmured, but the voice had no strength at all. "You're drunk and you don't know what you're saying."

But the way he didn't pull away said exactly the opposite.

"I know you want me..."

That was like a shot to Rafe's chest. He stood still for a second, not knowing whether to flee from the situation or stay there, but the impulse to have you close was much stronger than any judgment remaining in his head.

Rafe pulled you forcefully against his body, his hands grabbing your waist with a possessiveness he could no longer hide. He kissed you with an absurd urgency, as if he were quenching a thirst for you after a long time trying to hold back. There was no more hesitation in that touch; it was pure desire and necessity.

The kiss was deep and messy, breaths mingling as he pressed you lightly against the wall where he had been leaning. Rafe seemed to have forgotten the fact that you were siblings, the rules, and even his own name. In that moment, in the silence of the living room, the only thing that mattered to him was the taste of your mouth and the confirmation that, as wrong as it was, he wanted exactly what you said.

Rafe was completely surrendered to the impulse, and with every touch, the tension he had accumulated seemed to explode. His kisses descended forcefully to your neck, rough and hungry, as if he wanted to devour you right there, in the middle of the room. He couldn't hold back anymore, his breath coming out heavy and hot against your skin, and the weight of all that guilt fell entirely on you, exactly as you wanted.

"Why did you have to be so hot?"

He let the words out in a husky murmur, almost a lament, while his tongue and teeth worked against your skin, leaving marks you would certainly have to hide later. Rafe was lost, totally dominated by the scent of your perfume and the heat of your body.

You felt your legs weaken and grabbed his hair tightly, pulling him closer while closing your eyes, letting your head hang back. Your hands moved up to his polo shirt, crushing the expensive fabric between your fingers, feeling the muscles in Rafe’s back contract under your touch. At that moment, right or wrong no longer existed only the sound of accelerated breathing and the certainty that Rafe Cameron was, finally, in your hands.

Rafe pulled you with even more force, gluing your bodies in a way that you felt every muscle of his tense with desire. He had no control left. His tongue found yours again with desperate haste, and the kiss became completely chaotic.

It was a wet and urgent kiss, so uncontrolled that his tongue ended up slipping, hitting your chin and smearing your skin as he devoured you. The sound of heavy breathing and the smack of lips echoed in the silent. The moisture and the pressure of his mouth against yours were too intense, and you felt your body react instantly, becoming completely wet as you lost yourself in that delicious mess.

Rafe let out a low growl between the kiss, squeezing your waist so hard his fingers dug into your skin. He was out of his mind, moved only by instinct, and the way he kissed you made it clear he wouldn't be able to stop there. Every touch, every movement of his tongue on your face and in your mouth, only made you want more, trapping both of you on a path of no return.

Between kisses and stumbles, Rafe tossed you onto the sofa with a force that made the wooden frame creak, falling right on top of you and pulling you into his lap. His hands were frenetic, possessive, moving up your thighs as he pulled the strap of your dress down, exposing your shoulders and the start of your breasts to his hungry gaze. Rafe's face was flushed, sweat glistening on his forehead and his eyes bloodshot with pure desire.

"Since you got me like this, you're going to let me fuck you now without any stalling, aren't you?"

He growled the words against your ear, his voice coming out like a choke, a desperate and dirty plea. To anyone else, that would be the sickly apex of depravity, of the disgusting, but the fact that it was him your brother, the person who should be forbidden was what made your blood boil and your pussy pulse in an unbearable way. You just nodded, your eyes locked onto his.

Rafe didn't wait another second. He grabbed the thin fabric of your panties and pulled it to the side with brutality, feeling your wetness on his fingers, which made him let out a low, animalistic moan. He opened his belt with trembling hands, letting his hard, pulsing cock jump out, while the other hand squeezed your neck hard enough to make you gasp; he didn't want to wait, as if there were no time for foreplay.

He penetrated you all at once, without warning, a deep thrust that made you let out a muffled scream against his shoulder. The impact was large, dry, raw. Rafe began to move with a blind violence, bodies hitting each other with a wet and obscene sound that filled the silence of the room. He buried his face in your neck, huffing like an animal, alternating between biting your skin and cursing how much of a bitch you were for doing this to him.

Each of his movements was loaded with a hatred that transformed into pure pleasure, a dirty fuck that marked the end of any morality still remaining in that house.

Rafe didn't have a shred of delicacy in his movements. Even with you mounted on his lap, he was the one dictating the brutal rhythm, holding you by the hips and slamming you from the bottom up with a force that made your spine arch. The impact was dry and deep; each of his thrusts seemed to want to mark territory inside you. The purple dress finally gave way for good, falling to half your body and leaving you practically exposed while he continued to fuck your pussy without mercy.

"Like this, huh? This is what you wanted, I know. You were dying to taste your brother's cock."

He growled the words with a voice loaded with cruel satisfaction, seeing how surrendered you were. You squeezed the sofa fabric with your nails, feeling every inch of him invade and fill you, and your moans came out loud, without any fear, echoing through the empty room. The awareness that it was just the two of you there, doing something so disgusting, only made it more intense.

"Yes, I needed this cock so much."

Your confession was the final trigger for him to lose what remained of his control. Rafe let out a husky laugh and, in a quick movement, gave your ass a sharp slap that left your skin burning, returning to ram into you with even greater violence, throwing all the accumulated tension and hatred into pure pleasure.

"Oh yeah, baby..."

He moaned against your ear, the sweat of both of you mixing as the wet sound of the fucking grew louder and louder. He didn't stop, blinded by the sensation of having you there, totally dominated, while the world outside ceased to exist in the face of that depravity.

"That's it, fuck your sister's little pussy."

The words came out of your mouth in a dirty way, like a slut thirsty for every inch of him, without any filter. Rafe locked for a millisecond, eyes wide, processing the depravity of what you had just said, but soon his expression changed to something even darker and more excited. He spread your legs wide with force, seeing you act like a true prostitute in his lap the girl he should protect, the sister he should never see that way, was right there, riding his cock with her eyes rolling back.

"You like it like this?"

He asked, his voice failing, the veins in his neck standing out as he held you by the waist and pulled you down with everything, burying his cock even deeper, hitting your cervix in a thrust that made you lose your breath. Rafe was in ecstasy, seeing his own sister transform into a toy in his hands, moaning and asking for more of that wrong fuck that neither of you wanted to stop.

You nodded your head, feeling your whole body start to tremble over him, legs shaky as each thrust seemed to hit a point increasingly deep and sensitive. The adrenaline and the forbidden pleasure were taking you to the limit.

"Tell me, was my little sister still a virgin?"

Rafe asked with a sickly, satisfied smile on his lips, fucking you good, feeling how tight you were and how unique that moment was. He seemed to savor the fact that he was being the first, breaking something that no one else could touch.

"Yes..."

Your voice came out in a thread of a sigh, loaded with lust. He was the one deflowering you right there, on the living room sofa, and you didn't mind at all. In that moment, the only thing crossing your mind was how exciting it was to be the dirty, disgusting bitch he wanted you to be, knowing that secret would be kept under lock and key.

Rafe let out a low, proud growl and accelerated the pace even more, his hands squeezing your flesh hard, determined to leave permanent marks both on your body and in your memory. He was possessing you completely, transforming the "sacred" into something completely dirty and addictive.

Rafe acted quickly, holding your hair firmly in a ponytail while you were still mounted over him. The possessive act made you tilt your head back, and he took the chance to laugh openly at your expression a mixture of pain and pure lewd pleasure that was stamped on your face.

"I'm going to fill you with cum so you know this pussy is mine now."

He growled the promise with his eyes fixed on yours, his voice loaded with a sickly possessiveness that made you shudder even more. The warning only served to intensify the forbidden atmosphere in the room. Without waiting for an answer, he went back to moving with brute force, the rhythmic and deep thrusts making you shake in his lap.

Your legs finally gave out, losing any strength that still remained as you collapsed against his chest. Rafe, feeling that you were at the limit, didn't stop; on the contrary, he began to use the base of his cock and his hand to slam against your pussy with force, in a frantic and humiliating rhythm. Each sharp slap hit your clitoris dead on, sending electric shocks that made your vision blur and your body have violent spasms.

He had no filters left. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was loud and obscene, mixed with the smacking of the moisture that was already dripping down his legs. Rafe held you by the hair, keeping your face close to his so you could hear every growl and every low curse he let out.

"Look at how you're shaking," he whispered, his voice loaded with sadistic pleasure as he continued to massacre your clitoris with short, brute strokes. "You're loving being treated like this by your brother, aren't you? That's what you are, a disgusting little bitch."

You couldn't even answer; you only let out disconnected, high pitched moans, feeling the orgasm arrive like a violent wave that threatened to break you in half, while he continued to punish you with that hot pleasure.

Rafe felt his body tense, the muscles in his back locking as he reached the limit, but you were faster. The accumulated pleasure and his aggressiveness threw you into the abyss; you reached orgasm violently, your whole body shaking and your pussy tightening around his cock in uncontrollable spasms as you moaned loudly, burying your face in his neck.

As soon as he felt your grip of climax, Rafe let out an animal growl and pushed you away a bit, pulling his cock out with a wet pop. He didn't want to come outside, but he needed that final friction. He began to masturbate fast, his hand moving up and down frenetically on the pulsing, red member, his eyes fixed on your spent face, savoring your defeat.

Before you could even catch your breath or before your spasms stopped, he pulled you back by the hips with a renewed brutality.

"I'm not done with you yet."

He buried his cock in you again, all at once, ignoring that you had already come and that your sensitivity was at its peak. The re entry was raw and deep, making you let out a high pitched scream as he went back to fucking you with inhuman force, determined to come as deep as he could inside his own sister. Each thrust was like a shock to your exhausted body, and he didn't stop until he felt his own semen boiling to come out.

Rafe tilted his head back, the tendons in his neck standing out as he bit his own lips hard, trying to muffle the sound coming from his throat. He let out a deep, husky, animalistic moan as he discharged his last dose of aggressiveness with a violent slap to your ass.

At the height of ecstasy, he buried himself as deep as he could, locking his hips against yours. You felt the hot, thick jet hit the bottom of your pussy with absurd pressure. Because you were so sensitive, each of his pulsations seemed amplified; it felt like he was pouring liters of cum inside you, an infinite amount that filled your entire interior and began to overflow, running hot down your thighs.

Rafe stayed there, paralyzed, the weight of his body crushing yours against the sofa, his breath coming in heavy gasps in your ear. The smell of sex and sweat dominated the air, and the silence that followed only made the situation more obscene. He didn't pull away immediately, wanting to feel every final spasm of your body while his semen marked you inside, sealing that dirty secret that now ran in your entrails.

"Let this serve as a lesson for you..."

Rafe let the words out with a cold voice, regaining that arrogant and distant posture as you moved away. His tone no longer had the desperation of pleasure, only the authority of someone who had just completely dominated you.

You climbed off him with your legs still shaking, feeling the cold air hit your sweaty skin. Looking down, the sight was brutal: his cum, hot and thick, was running down your thighs, staining what remained of your purple dress and the expensive upholstery of the sofa. It was in that deafening silence, broken only by the sound of breathing regaining its rhythm, that the reality finally sank in.

The weight of reality hit your chest like a punch. It wasn't just a forbidden desire or a dangerous fantasy; you had just fucked your own brother. The trail of his semen on your skin was physical proof that the barrier had been destroyed forever, leaving behind an obscene secret that now united you in a sickly and irreversible way.

rafesbabybunny777

Titfuck ౨ৎ Friends with Benefits ♡ FEM READER !

-masterlist-

Warnings: hair pulling, praise & light degradation, face slapping, creampie (tit version), possessive!Rafe.

Note: I think I got carried away writing this.

Rafe’s room always had that scent of expensive cologne and sea breeze, but that afternoon the air felt denser, heavy with an obsession he made no effort to hide. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on desperation. He had been pestering you for hours with that idea a fantasy that had been stuck in his mind since that day at the beach house, when he caught a glimpse of your breasts for a brief second while clumsily trying to help you with your bra clasp.

You were close friends, the kind of friendship that always walked the razor's edge of sexual tension, but his request came as a shock. You hadn't even gone all the way yet just hot kisses and touching over clothes and there he was, asking for something so specific and visual. Rafe was always the type to get what he wanted, and the concept of "friends with benefits" seemed like the perfect excuse he engineered to finally get his hands on you.

"Come on! We're friends, friends do favors for each other," he let out, his voice coming out in a husky, convincing tone that vibrated in your stomach.

He wasn't asking; he was selling an idea as if it were the solution to all his problems. Rafe was visibly losing it just imagining the contrast of his skin against yours, the idea of coming between your tits gleaming in his eyes like a trophy. You always knew he had a kinkier side, but now you had absolute confirmation.

You bit the corner of your lower lip, feeling your heart race against your ribs, and swallowed hard before admitting in a whisper:

"I’ve never tried doing this before."

The admission came out soft, almost shy, and Rafe found it the most adorable and arousing thing in the world. A smirk, arrogant and satisfied, spread across his face as he slowly stood up, closing the distance between you.

"It’s real simple, princess. Just stay still and I’ll fuck your tits. Simple," he explained with a jarring naturalness, as if he were describing how to drive a car or open a beer bottle.

He stopped right in front of you, his large, warm hand reaching up to touch the collar of your shirt, fingers brushing your collarbone. Rafe wasn't going to take no for an answer, and you could see by his dilated pupils that his cock was already impatient inside his pants, just waiting for your first move to take control of everything.

Rafe had finally gotten what he wanted, and the satisfaction on his face was almost visceral. He stood in front of you, legs slightly apart, while you, on your knees, used your hands to press your own breasts together, creating a tight, soft track for him.

His cock was buried there, sliding forcefully between your skin, rising almost to touch your chin with every rhythmic thrust. Rafe dictated the pace, holding the back of your neck with one hand to ensure you didn't look away for a single second. He wanted you to see exactly what you were doing to him.

"I’m gonna want to fuck these tits more often... fuck, yes!" he growled, his voice breaking as he shoved his hips against you with blind but controlled urgency.

Your head was tilted up, eyes fixed on his features which contorted between pleasure and that typical aggression he carried. Seeing the sweat break out on Rafe’s forehead and hearing the low groans escaping his throat gave you a strange sense of power and accomplishment. You were always the friend who took care of him, who understood his outbursts, and there, in that purely carnal moment, keeping him satisfied felt like the natural extension of liking him.

You squeezed your breasts harder, feeling his body heat and the wet friction starting to form. He kept a steady rhythm, slow and deep, savoring the sensation of being squeezed by your skin. Rafe leaned his body a bit further forward, blue eyes locked onto yours, watching how you reacted to his every move. He seemed to want to engrave that image into his mind, enjoying every second of that "help" he had begged for so much.

The trail of pre-cum he left behind began to act as a natural lubricant, making the slide of skin against his cock much more fluid and audible. The heat emanating from there was stifling, but Rafe seemed to be in a trance, blue eyes fixed on the image of his own erection vanishing and reappearing between the squeeze of your breasts.

"That’s it... keep squeezing your tits," he ordered, his voice failing, his hot breath hitting your face as he moved his hips with a mesmerizing cadence.

He didn't seem satisfied with just the visual; he needed total control. With a blunt movement, Rafe let go of your neck and split your hair in two, grabbing the strands tightly, one in each hand, as if they were reins. He pulled your head back slightly, forcing you to arch your body and offer an even better angle for him.

Now, with his hands occupied holding your hair in two improvised pigtails, he began to use only the strength of his own hips to dictate the pace. The thrusts grew deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the silence of the room. He leaned over you, arms stretched and firm as he kept you pinned in that position, watching your every reaction with a possessiveness that made you tremble inside.

"You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed about this," he hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes darkening as he felt the tightness of your skin against him. "Look at me. Look at what you’re doing to me."

Rafe continued the back-and-forth motion, firm and constant, enjoying every millimeter of the friction. He wasn't in a hurry; he wanted to feel the heat of your breasts as much as he could, keeping you there, kneeling and submissive to the desire he had cultivated for weeks.

The sensation of being there, at that angle, was something you never imagined would be so addictive. The sight of Rafe dominating the space, his blue eyes fixed on you and his proprietary hands tangled in your hair, made your head spin. The slight sting of the pull at your roots mixed with the liquid pleasure you felt between your legs; your panties were soaked, heavy against your skin, reacting to that display of raw control he insisted on maintaining.

You let out a long groan, a sound that started in your throat and died against his abdomen as he continued to thrust between your breasts with pitiless cadence.

"You like this, don't you?" he hissed, noticing how your body trembled under his hands. "You like knowing that I'm going crazy because of you."

Rafe gave a firmer tug on your hair, forcing your face up so you wouldn't miss a single second of what was happening. The wet trail of pre-cum now made every movement easier, causing his cock to slide with a dirty, muffled sound against your hot skin. He didn't take his eyes off your breasts being crushed by the pressure of your own hands, fascinated by the way you obeyed his every silent command.

The room seemed to have grown hotter, the air thinner. With every back-and-forth motion, he seemed to sink deeper into you, his breathing becoming loud and erratic in your ear. He was savoring your submission, delighting in the fact that the "perfect friend" was, in fact, the only person capable of leaving him in that state of carnal trance.

"Keep looking," he ordered, his voice breaking in a commanding tone that allowed no argument, while he slightly increased the pressure of his hips, testing the limits of your endurance and his own self-control.

Your eyes were fixed on his face, heavy and focused, as you saw yourself reflected in that raw image: kneeling, breasts squeezed together, serving as a toy for the Cameron heir. You looked like one of those porn stars Rafe surely watched in the lonely early hours in that room, but with the difference that the heat was real and the scent was yours.

"Am I doing okay?" you asked quietly, your voice coming out in a thin thread of sound that almost got lost between the smacks of skin clashing.

Rafe didn't answer with words. He only nodded his head in blunt agreement, teeth clenched and an expression like someone who was being ruined from the inside out. He couldn't articulate a single sentence; his concentration was entirely focused on the wet friction and the sight of your nipples brushing against his torso with every thrust.

He tightened the pigtails in each hand even more, wrapping the strands around his fingers for a firmer grip, and began to dictate a more aggressive rhythm. The sound was dirty, muffled by the pre-cum that now covered the entire valley between your breasts, glistening under the dim light of the room. Rafe seemed to want to merge with you, pushing his hips with a force that made your body sway back and forth, following his urgency.

He let out a low, deep growl that vibrated in his chest and echoed against your face. The pleasure was making Rafe mute, turning the cocky "friend" into a man dominated by instinct, focused only on the sensation of being squeezed by you while the world outside ceased to exist.

Rafe's voice came out like a whip-crack, loaded with an authority that left no room for doubt. He wanted everything from you in that moment: your sight, your body, and now, your total submission stamped on your face.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, his voice breaking in a husky, dirty tone, fingers digging further into your hair to tilt your head at the exact angle he wanted.

You obeyed, sticking your tongue out while continuing to crush your own breasts against his cock. The sight was obscene. The trail of pre-cum glistened on your skin and now threatened to drip, while Rafe accelerated his hips, the sound of flesh hitting flesh getting louder and wetter in the silence of the room.

"That's it... look at you, fuck," he hissed, his blue eyes flashing with a sick lust. "You look like a little bitch begging for me to cum on that saintly face of yours."

He no longer had any filter. The mask had fallen away, revealing the possessive pervert he had always hidden under designer clothes. Rafe began to thrust with raw force, making his cock slide between your breasts and rise until it brushed the tip of your tongue, staining your lips with the hot fluid he exuded.

"You like being used like this, don't you? Knowing that I'm going to cum while you stay right there on your knees, hm?" he growled, his face contorted in a grimace of pure carnal pleasure.

His breathing was erratic, hitting your face like hot coals. He pulled your hair with a force that made you let out a muffled groan, his eyes fixed on your open mouth and your breasts covered in his trail. Rafe was losing control, his free hand descending for a second to squeeze your cheek hard, forcing you to maintain the pose while he lost himself in the frantic rhythm he dictated.

Rafe let go of your hair with a blunt urgency, but it wasn't to give you freedom. Before you could process the relief, he shoved two fingers deep into your mouth, forcing your jaw open even wider while he continued to fuck the gap between your breasts with animal strength.

"Suck," he growled, his voice breaking in a dirty, authoritative tone. "Suck these fingers like they're my cock while I finish off these spoiled brat tits of yours."

The sound in the room was purely obscene: the wet smack of his cock hitting your skin covered in pre-cum mixed with the sound of your suction around his fingers. Rafe used the hand inside your mouth to control your head's movement, pulling and pushing as his hips dictated the frantic pace.

His blue eyes were bloodshot, fixed on the image of you kneeling, mouth occupied and breasts being crushed by your own hand under his command. He seemed possessed by a need to mark you, to leave you drenched with everything he had saved up for weeks.

"Look at the state you've left me in, fuck," he hissed, teeth clenched as he felt the pressure of your skin against him increase with every thrust. "You're just as perverted as I am, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes... you love being used by your best friend."

He accelerated even more, breath coming in short, hot gasps against your face, while his fingers explored your tongue and his cock slid firmer and deeper between your curves, turning that afternoon in the Cameron bedroom into a scene of complete ruin for any morality you both still pretended to have.

The muffled sounds escaping your throat as you sucked his fingers seemed to fuel Rafe's possessive fury. He was out of his mind, his whole body tense as he fucked the valley between your breasts with a force that made your shoulders shake. The trail of pre-cum had already left everything slippery, a dirty sheen covering your skin under the room's light.

When the tip of his cock slammed hard against your chin, a shock of electricity ran down your spine. You tilted your head a little lower, yielding to instinct, wanting to feel the heat of that head brushing against your lips, silently begging for him to go a little further.

Rafe noticed the movement. He let out a low, almost animal growl, and his blue eyes darkened until they looked black.

"You want it here, don't you?" he hissed, his voice failing in a way that showed how close he was to the edge. "Want to feel how hard I am for you in your mouth while I finish off these tits?"

He didn't wait for an answer. Rafe used the two fingers already in your mouth to pull your lower lip down, exposing even more of your tongue, while increasing the range of his hip movement. Now, with every deep thrust between your breasts, the head of his cock rose and deliberately struck your open mouth, staining your lips with his hot fluid.

"Suck it, princess. Show your friend how much of a little slut you are for him," he ordered, his breath hitting your face heavy and erratic. "Look at me while I ruin you."

The sound in the room was purely obscene, the wet slap of flesh against flesh and your groans muffled by his fingers. Rafe was completely hypnotized by the sight of you kneeling, offering yourself, turning that friendship into something so dirty and addictive that neither of them would ever be able to forget. He quickened the pace, his hips striking with pitiless force, bringing the tension to a breaking point.

The sight of his cock, pulsing and a vivid shade of pink, was intimidating up close. Even without much to compare it to, you felt the weight and volume there; it was clear that Rafe was carrying something well above average, and the way he filled the space between your breasts left no doubt. Every time he thrust his hips, the head of his cock brushed hard against your lips, and you ran the tip of your tongue over it, feeling the heat and the metallic taste of the pre-cum that was already making you dizzy.

Rafe seemed to have lost any connection to reality other than the friction of your skin. He locked his jaw, the tendons in his neck popping as he reached the peak of tension. He couldn't articulate a single dirty word; the air simply fled his lungs in a muffled roar.

With one final, violent thrust, he came with everything.

You felt the hot, thick jet hit your breasts first, a wave of heat that spread instantly. Rafe continued to cum with the built-up force of weeks, white and heavy jets staining your skin, running down the valley of your chest and dripping into your lap. The fluid was thick, contrasting with your skin as he marked you completely, turning your "friendship" into something irredeemably dirty and carnal.

He slowly let go of your hair, his hands shaking slightly, as he watched the mess he had made. Your breasts were covered, glistening under the room's light with the proof of how much he needed that release. Rafe let out a heavy sigh, his breathing still erratic, looking at you kneeling and all smeared with cum as if you were the most valuable and perverted thing he had ever possessed in his life.

"Oh fuck..." he finally managed to whisper, his voice completely wrecked, as he ran his thumb over the corner of your mouth to wipe away a trail of his cum that had splashed there. "I told you you’d be perfect at this."

johnloganswife

jealous type

john logan x female reader

summary: reader gets jealous seeing how Logan watches Hannah’s karaoke performance and decides to have a go, too. It certainly catches Logan’s eye because he is soon unable to keep his hands off her. warnings: 18+, mentions of drinking, reader is a little dom, logan slightly sub for a bit, logan on his knees, both have a praise kink (‘good boy’ / ‘good girl’ used), oral sex (f receiving), piv, protection used ofc, reader on top (then switch), banter, a little possessiveness, no use of ‘y/n’ word count: 3.8k an: i mention logan’s outfit to be the same one from the show, but i didn’t rlly know how to describe his shirt properly, so i hope it makes enough sense when you’re reading! also i’m more emotionally invested in these two than i expected so lmk if you think it’s worth a part 2, and what kinda thing you’d wanna see if that were to happen!

Karaoke night at Malone's was supposed to be fun.

It was supposed to be a chance to unwind after a long week of classes that dragged, and conversations with John Logan that left me dissecting minute, insignificant details for hours afterwards. Who knew hooking up with him once would make me care so much about... him?

Unfortunately, my hidden agenda was that tonight was also supposed to be a chance to talk to Logan and not overthink my entire life for once. With alcohol loosening my tongue and preventing me from worrying so much, everything was supposed to be fun.

It seems the universe had other plans.

An accident I had while getting ready (that involved spilling my pre-game drink on my outfit, forcing me to change into an old dress that was way too small) meant that I arrived late to the party. Upon entering, the first thing I see is Logan laughing at the bar, with Hannah handing him an off-the-menu drink.

Perks of being a Malone's employee: you get to charm Logan with personalised drinks. Whatever.

Okay, Hannah was giggling with Logan. So, what? She hadn't had Logan whimpering on his knees for her five nights ago. I did. The knowledge satisfies me somewhat, but I still can't shake the weird feeling in my chest that I get looking at the two of them. It's almost like I feel jeal— No. I have no reason to feel that over Logan. We aren't anything.

But, it felt like we were that night. When he kissed me with a passion I've never felt before. When his fingers traced my skin and left fire in their wake.

The sound of Jules' voice booming through the speakers snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Hannah Wells. You're up, bitch."

After watching Hannah walk to the stage with Garrett lingering behind in the crowd, I see Logan take his neon blue drink and find a table towards the side of the room. I take the opportunity of an almost-empty bar to grab myself a drink with ninety-nine percent alcohol and one percent taste.

While waiting for my drink, Hannah begins singing ‘Cherry Pie’. A pretty good song choice, I must admit. A few seconds later I hear a cheer from Logan that bothers me more than I care to admit. I turn back to the bar and grab my drink, which arrived just in time for me to drown my feelings.

Glass in hand, I move to the far corner of the room, finding an empty table on the opposite side of the stage to Logan. From here, not only can I see Hannah's (incredible) performance, but also Logan's mesmerised expression. His eyes are tracking her every move, watching in utter fascination as she commands the stage.

I can't even blame him. I'm in awe of Hannah, too. Her vocals are incredible, and, not to mention, she looks gorgeous. But, I can't pretend I'm not jealous anymore. There's an almost lustful glimmer in Logan's eyes that reminds me of the way he looked at me a few hours before we fucked. I guess the good thing is Hannah's taken.

Still, I find myself wishing it was me on that stage. Wishing it was only me who he looked at like that.

This is bad.

We fucked once, and he's John Logan. The King of Casual. If I let my feelings get out of hand, I'm only going to make things harder for myself.

Before I know it, I've downed my entire drink, and Hannah isn't even finished with her song. I decided to get another drink because my feelings aren't suffocating yet. On my way to the bar, I pass Jules holding the karaoke sign up sheet. A terrible idea takes hold of my tipsy head, and before I even realise I'm turning back to get their attention.

"Hey, Jules," I tap their shoulder.

"Hey—," they pause after turning and seeing my outfit. "Dang, girl, you look hot as fuck."

Shocked by the compliment, I stutter as I reply, "Oh, seriously? Dude, this dress is so old and definitely too small for me 'cus I can barely breathe."

I tug at the corset-top of the plain black dress, hyperaware of the pressure on my lungs now that it's the topic of conversation.

"Trust me, it's worth it— I can't even see your waist, it's so small," they chuckle. "The rest is amazing, too. Respectfully, you've never worn anything more flattering for your figure."

I laugh, "I guess I should start buying smaller clothes, then."

Smiling, they shake their head, "Sorry, I got you off topic. Did you need something?"

"Actually, I was hoping to put my name down for karaoke... if that's okay?"

I can't decide if I love or hate this idea more now that I've said it out loud.

"Yeah, of course!" Jules hands me the sheet and I write my name and song.

"I'm excited to see your performance," they smile, then walk away.

Directing my attention to the bar, I decide to limit myself to one shot, and then no more alcohol. Drunk me singing in front of a crowd—with Logan in it, mind you—sounds like a recipe for disaster. Tonight, tipsy is as far as I will allow it to go.

It's been about fifteen minutes of me sitting at this bar, staring at the back of Logan's head, slowly feeling worse and worse about us. Actually, no. There is no 'us'. I just feel bad about him. About how I can't call him mine. About how I want to take him back to my dorm and see him on his knees for me again.

The thought makes me want to buy another drink, but before I can consider the idea, Jules announces my turn for karaoke. The sound of my name is loud enough for everyone to hear, yet Logan doesn't react. From afar, I watch him simply take another sip of his drink. Frustrated, I huff and make my way to the stage where I find my place at the microphone stand.

Everyone's eyes are on me now, but I can't help but gravitate towards Logan. For the first time tonight, he's finally looking back at me. I notice his eyes fixate on my outfit, that glint of lust I was hungry for returning to his eyes. If anyone else looked at me like that—stared at my body after being oblivious of me all night—I would smack them sideways. But, it's Logan. I would let Logan do anything to me.

I am a lost cause.

His eyes meet mine and the feeling is electric. It's like I'm a relapsing addict and he's the most addictive substance in the world.

The instrumental of 'Nonsense' by Sabrina Carpenter starts to play and a grin finds my lips. Logan smiles back lazily, already amused. Seeing as this is one of my favourite songs, the words come naturally, and the crowd cheers me on as I begin to sing. I start to enjoy myself, the alcohol in my system muffling any nerves that might interfere with the present moment.

Everything is perfect. Except for the fact that my eyes continuously find Logan's, and every single time, he's waiting, already looking back at me. Whenever the crowd gets louder, he cheers for me too. More than he cheered for Hannah. The thought fills me with satisfaction and increases my confidence.

By the end of the song, I'm walking over to Logan. I lean my elbows on his table, resting my chin on one propped up hand, holding the mic in the other as I sing the last line.

"How quickly can you take your clothes off? Pop quiz," I smirk as the words leave my mouth, tilting my head teasingly.

Logan chuckles, the look in his eyes playful, but intense. The crowd erupts one last time, this time with whistles and banter thrown our way, too. I turn away from Logan and replace the mic on the stand, then start making my way back to the bar. Before I reach it, Logan finds me, sliding his hand to the small of my back as he leans in slightly, so only I can hear him.

"Give me thirty seconds," he breathes quietly, giving an answer to my 'question' from earlier.

I meet his eyes, see the desire dilating his pupils.

"Sorry, Logan," I pout, my tone patronising, "You're gonna have to try harder than that."

He raises his eyebrows slightly. Surprised, but eager for a challenge, he waits for further explanation.

"You ignored me all night. If you wanna get in my pants again, you'll have to work for it."

He leans down further, his lips brushing my ear as his voice turns into a needy whisper.

"What do you want, baby? I'll give you anything you want," he speaks slowly, each syllable travelling through my ears like honey.

I look him up and down, considering the offer. In reality, it's taking all my willpower not to crash my lips onto his right now, but Logan gave me control of this situation, so I am going to abuse that power as much as I can. It's only fair he feels a little discomfort after all I've felt about him this past week.

"Have you been drinking?" I ask, a plan forming in my head.

"No," he replies instantly, shaking his head.

"Good. You're driving us back to your place."

Music occupied the entire short drive back to the hockey house. Not a single word was spoken between us. When we arrived, I walked up to Logan's room without waiting for permission. I didn't need to.

Logan wouldn't deny me anything.

I reach his room first, then he joins shortly after, closing the door gently behind him. Sitting on the edge of his bed, I find his eyes. The hunger in them is unmistakable. He stands near the door, waiting, hands in his jeans’ pockets. Somehow, he’s so sexy, yet endearing at the same time.

The short sleeves of his open brown shirt frame his biceps perfectly, meanwhile I can almost see the shape of his abs through his tight black tank top. I can’t help thinking how I want him all to myself.

“Come here,” I finally say, voice quiet but commanding.

Obeying, he walks towards me until his tall frame is towering over me.

“Get on your knees.”

Not breaking eye contact for a single moment, Logan drops to his knees, the need in his expression becoming more apparent.

“Good boy,” I coo, my lips curving up.

The praise makes Logan groan slightly, as he tilts his head back.

“God, I love that,” he whispers, a wicked smile on his lips.

I take hold of his jaw, straightening his head to look at me again.

“I may have called you a good boy, but that doesn’t mean you are one,” I say, frustration slipping into my tone.

Logan lifts one eyebrow in confusion, prompting me to continue.

“You barely looked at me all night.”

The tension from his face dissolves and he lets out a small chuckle.

“That’s because I saw you from the corner of my eye a little while after you walked in, and this dress…” he pauses, eyes wandering to my chest before meeting my gaze again. “I was hard without even properly looking at you. If I hadn’t avoided you, we would be in a toilet stall in Malone’s right now.”

Letting go of his jaw, I frown slightly, “I wouldn’t have minded that.”

“Oh, but I prefer this much better,” Logan smirks, looking up at me.

I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile that finds my lips. For a moment, I continue to look at him, deciding what I should get him to do first.

“I’m all yours, baby,” his quiet voice cuts through the silence.

The words satisfy me more than I’d like to admit.

Lifting one leg up slightly, I gesture for Logan to take my heels off. Once he’s done, I stand up, reaching under my dress to pull down my panties. Maintaining eye contact, I find my seat again, at the edge of his bed.

Drawn to me like a moth to a flame, Logan leans forward and presses a kiss to my knee. He moves his mouth to my inner thigh, slowly using his hands to spread my legs as he kisses closer and closer to where I need him most.

“Is this okay?” he mumbles against my leg.

“Yes,” I breathe, tilting my head back.

Logan’s calloused hand hooks my leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to me.

Immediately, he leans in and gently licks up my pussy before pressing a kiss to my clit. The feeling of his hot breath fanning on me sends a shiver down my spine. He kisses me a few more times before taking my clit in his mouth, circling his tongue around it.

The sensation has me sighing, using one hand to grip at Logan’s hair. I press into the mattress behind me with my other hand, keeping myself upright as my back begins to arch. Logan’s tongue remains gentle, sucking softly, while pressing the occasional kiss on me.

“More,” I breathe, instinctively bucking my hips into his face.

Logan understands the prompt and begins to apply more pressure to my clit, continuing to suck and lick in a way that is intoxicating. Slowly, he brings a finger up to tease my entrance.

“I only want your tongue, John.”

He stops, leaning back in surprise at the use of his first name. Tilting his head at me teasingly, a small smirk finds his lips.

“Just shut up and eat me out,” I groan, twitching at the sudden loss of his mouth on me.

“You’re the boss,” he shrugs, but his smirk never leaves his lips.

He wastes no time pulling my clit into his mouth again, using his tongue in ways he doubtless has done with others. A pang of jealousy hits me without warning.

“I saw the way you were looking at Hannah,” I blurted out before I could think better of it.

Logan freezes, then pulls back, his doe eyes staring up into mine.

“My head is between your legs… and you’re thinking of Hannah?” he raises an eyebrow.

With my leg still on his shoulder, I look up at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze. “I hated how you were looking at her. I could only think about how I want you to look at me like that.”

“I am now,” his voice is low as he gently kisses my inner thigh.

“Only me,” I clarify.

My legs falls from his grip as he stands, moving close to tower over me. He holds my chin, forcing continuous eye contact.

“Someone’s jealous,” he teases, amusement laced in his tone and expression.

I fumble for my words, but before I can reply, Logan leans down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “Let me fuck you so good you don’t doubt who I’m loyal too.”

What little self-restraint I had left snaps, and I grab his face, pulling him into a kiss. I move backwards, further onto his bed, using one hand to pull him towards me by his shirt. Lying down, he moves on top of me, his hands pressing into the mattress next to my head.

Our lips are possessive, kissing with a newfound intensity as I pull his bottom lip between my teeth. He groans, the sound making me even wetter than before. Momentarily, he pulls back to look into my eyes, his gaze dark and hungry.

“Didn’t get to finish down here,” he smirks, one hand reaching for my already-sensitive and throbbing pussy. I’m aching for him to finish what he started.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask, teasingly pushing his head down, which he, unsurprisingly, obeys to.

His tongue finds me again and the relief makes my head push back into the pillow. I use one hand to grip the sheets, the other to hold Logan’s head against me.

Wrapping his hands around my thighs, he resumes his work from earlier, applying the perfect pressure my clit was starting to miss. This time, though, there’s nothing gentle about it. He’s sucking passionately, as if determined to see how fast he can make me come. A sigh escapes my lips at the feeling of his tongue moving over me.

My back begins to arch, pleasure building as a result of Logan’s mouth. Wet sounds fill the room as his movements become more frantic. He knows exactly what I need and the thought edges me even closer to my orgasm.

“Fuck yes, John,” I moan.

The use of his first name seems to encourage him to keep going, his tongue moving harder than before. I arch my back further, beginning to lose myself in this feeling.

“I’m so close,” I whine, barely aware of what I’m saying.

“Come on my face, baby,” Logan mumbles quickly.

Before long, I reach my climax, my loud moans filling the room as I clutch at Logan’s hair. My hips twitch up into his face, and Logan keeps his tongue working, letting me ride out the aftershocks of my orgasm. He finally pulls back to rest on his knees, his heavy breathing reflecting my own.

“Take off your clothes,” I demand, eager to continue.

Teasingly, he slowly pulls off his brown shirt, then moves to his tank. He’s taking too long for my liking, so I sit up and begin working on his belt. I’m left with the sight of his bare abs mere inches away. I look up at him, his belt now forgotten by my hands.

My gaze remains on his as I tilt my head down to lick from his pant-line up the length of his abs. His breath hitches and I suppress a smirk at how affected he is by me. Abandoning his torso, I turn around to rest on my knees, too, and look over my shoulder.

“Zip,” I say simply, prompting Logan to unzip my dress.

He takes his time with it, first dragging his fingertips along my hips, then my waist. Moving my hair to one shoulder, he leans in and kisses my neck. I consider demanding him to hurry up, but the feeling of his soft lips on me expels all thoughts out of my brain.

His hands wrap around me from behind, pulling me close as he sucks and bites the sensitive skin of my neck gently. I sigh into his touch, reaching a hand back to hold him close by his neck.

After he’s sure he’s left a mark on me, he leans back and unzips my dress. I get up to stand next to the bed and slowly peel off the clothing. Logan lies back on the bed, taking off his jeans but keeping his eyes on me in the process. His gaze is so heated I can practically feel it burning into me.

Finally rid of all physical barriers, I crawl over Logan, sitting so my thighs straddle him. His hard dick is left right in front of me, so I lean down and press a kiss to its head. My nails graze up and down his length, teasing him as I watch his face twist in desperation.

“I need to be inside of you, please,” he almost whimpers, and the sound travels straight to the heat between my thighs.

He shifts slightly to reach for a condom from his bedside table, then passes it to me. After opening the wrapper, I slowly roll it onto his length, making a point to caress and tease him further.

“Please,” this time he really does whimper.

Losing my own patience, I lift my hips and line him up with my entrance. Slowly, I sink down onto him, his length filling me up. His groan and my gasp fill up the otherwise silent room. The angle of him inside me perfectly grazes me g-spot, making my eyes roll back.

After adjusting to Logan’s width for a few seconds, I began moving my hips, my hands pressed on his abs to steady me. He grinds up into me, sighing at the friction between us. Each movement I make causes him to rub against my g-spot more, and I feel pleasure quickly growing inside me again.

“Say you’re mine,” I breathe, while my hips continue rolling.

“I’m yours, baby,” he groans. “All yours. Only yours.”

His words urge me to continue, but I still feel that sense of possessiveness and need to satiate my worries.

As if reading my mind, Logan’s gravelly voice reaches my ears again. “Nobody makes me feel like you do.”

The statement is enough to make me keep going until we’re both breathing erratically, nearing our climaxes.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Logan grunts out.

I feel myself slowing down despite my growing need.

“Logan, I’m getting tired,” I admit, my voice small.

He wastes no time wrapping an arm around my waist and moving himself on top of me. Taking control, he begins pounding into me, letting me just lie back and take it.

“Don’t worry, baby, you did so good,” he praises me, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he can.

I’m arching into him, my hands clawing at Logan’s bare skin—certainly hard enough to leave marks—as my eyes roll back. Before I could even warn him, I’m coming, my moans loud enough for him to know.

“Good girl,” he whispers in my ear.

How the tables turn. I’ll never admit it to him (though I think he already knows), but I love when he calls me that.

Shortly after, Logan comes too, his movements slowing down as he grunts and pounds into me one last time. He breathes heavily, resting his head in the crook of my neck while his length is still inside me.

Holding his face, I force his eyes to meet mine. “Good boy,” I tease, using the same pet name on him.

He chuckles and the sound reverberates through my body, the sight of his smile bringing a grin to my face, too.

I kiss him softly, content just to be in this moment. He pulls back with a thoughtful look on his face.

“You know, I like how you are when you’re jealous,” Logan’s tone is teasing. “Maybe I should flirt with other girls more often.”

I smack his shoulder playfully. “Flirt with other girls and you’ll never have me in your bed again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, half serious, half joking.

I can’t help the giggle that escapes my throat as I pull him close to hug me—I could really get used to this.

I’m so fucked.

spankyourlocalbrat

pov. the loser nerd that hasn’t lost their virginity but decides for their bucket list; they want to lose their virginity. at a party, they come up to the popular frat boy and begs them to take their virginity.

notes. when i made this plot idea post, i didn’t have anybody in mind… but rereading it, i couldn’t help but think rafe is perfect for this plot.. ok enjoy

content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, rough sex, dirty talk, explicit language, no proof read cause idgaf, teasing, big dick rafe, penetration

your nose’s home is books, you could smell the scent of a fresh book being open from miles away, you never fail tests, and always turn in projects on time. there’s nothing wrong with being smart, but god being so smart means you have no time for a sex life even if you wanted it.

twenty somethin’ years old and you’ve never seen a cock in real life besides that one time where they brought out a penis in your middle school sex education class. you’re too shy to even sneak a look at the print through a man’s pants, too shy to even stand next to a man.

just your shoulders brushing against a man makes you want to throw up from your nerves being unstable. you’re positive you’ll die a virgin at this point.

but graduation is coming up, and your bucket list that you created in freshman year of college needs to be finished. the only thing that hasn’t been done is having sex, it didn’t matter how you did it. just have some physical contact that’s sexual with someone that isn’t your fingers.

a party would be your best bet, somewhere nobody knows you, all you needed was fake confidence and you’d fit perfectly in to the crowd.

but when you got there, it was so clear you’ve never been to a party in your life. you asked questions on what they were drinking, why they were drinking, and what do people normally do at a party. you were embarrassing yourself but you were curious.

you were lost at this party, not physically but emotionally. a lot of stuff was going on all at once, people grinding on each other, smoking, drinking, fighting.

focus. virginity. right. your eyes look around the room, eyes finally locking on a tall man. he was text book description of a frat boy, maybe he’d be the perfect guy for a quick fuck? you sigh and muster up courage, walking over to the man.

once you get there, you freeze. his eyes looking at yours, he looked confused. “have you lost your virginity?” you ask out loud, but he doesn’t seem shocked by the delivery of your question. “why do you wanna know?” he replied dryly, bringing his red solo cup up to his lips. “can you take mine?” you ask.

he paused, the rim of the cup brushing against his lips before he put it down. “what?” he said to her, he wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly. “can you fuck me? can we please have sex?” you explain, your sentences rushed out and you end it with a sigh. “wow, you don’t waste time.” he sarcastically said, placing his cup on the kitchen counter.

you tilt your head. “okay. so? yes?” you question. he looks stuck as if he’s trying to figure you out but you only become more confusing for him. his tongue presses against his inner cheek. “maybe. maybe not. why’s it matter?” he asks. “uh.” you stammer, your hand going to itch the back of your neck.

he waits for an answer but you didn’t have an answer. “uh, i don’t know, i’m sorry—i’m wasting your time.” you continue, turning to walk away. he laughed under his breath. “you come up, ask the weirdest question I’ve heard all month, and you’re embarrassed?” he questions as he shook his head.

“that’s rich.” he stated before speaking up again. “you want me to fuck you for fun? or what?” he asked bluntly, you freeze and your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

it wasn’t because he said it out loud but because he read your mind completely.

you turn to him and think to yourself. for fun? that sounds confident. “yeah…for fun.” you reply, a soft smile spreading against your lips. he looks at your smile and back up at your eyes, he doesn’t smile back, but he nods slowly like he was processing what you said.

the conversation went quiet, but your smile stayed put during it. he leaned in a bit. “come here.” he told you, curling his finger to signal you to come closer. you do what you’re told and his lips to get next to your ear. “you think you can handle seven inches for your first time?” he asks, his eyes looking into yours like he’s genuinely curious.

your smile faded immediately hearing that. they get that big? “what?” you ask, but he doesn’t react. “seven inches” he repeats. “inside you.” he adds, his eyes watching your face to see how you’d react. “think you could take it?” he asks, his tone dripping in tease.

your jaw drops a bit, staring into his eyes. he lazily smiles and looks down at your lips. “i don’t believe you.” you shot back, smiling now. he chuckles, clearly taking your doubt as a joke. that was hot. he was confident in his size and found it humorous when doubted because he’s always told it’s so big.

"don't believe me?" he echoed, eyes still locked on hers. a slow smile appeared on his face. "guess there's only one way to find out, huh?"

rafe’s hard cock sprung out his boxers like a sling shot being pulled back and your jaw drops. he was huge. thick. and hard. your eyes look up at his, and his eyes meet yours after a couple seconds, he slightly smiles proudly. “you wanna touch it?” he taunts. “can i? or- should i?” you stammer.

he laughs and leans over to the nightstand, grabbing the condom and dropping it in your hands.

you couldn’t help but feel shy, it felt wrong to even look down at his dick, regardless if he wanted you to see it. he wasn’t shy, he was literally flaunting his size and teasing you. you swallow your spit nervously.

“what- uh. what do i do with this?” you ask, looking up at him. “put it on.” he answers simply, but it didn’t answer much of your questions. “have you never put a condom on a banana?” he questioned, curious on how inexperienced you truly were.

you roll your eyes, and he delivers a soft slap from the tip of his fingers on your cheek—it was all he could reach while he was standing up. “what was that for?” you asked, holding your cheek even though it didn’t hurt. you are just dramatic. “that’s for thinkin’ you can roll your eyes at me. try it again and it won’t be so gentle.” he states.

you sit there, completely dumbfounded. he grabs the condom wrapper out your hands, opening it and demonstrating how it’s supposed to go on just by putting it over the tip of his dick. “pull it down.” he tells you, holding the condom on his dick before you took over. you slide it down his dick, brows furrowing.

the condom looked like it was struggling to even stretch over his dick, like it was cutting of circulation. when it finally stretched to the start of his dick, he looked down at you.

“easy, yeah?” he asks and you nodded, your eyes were staring at his dick, overly examining it. he watched you stare, wondering on why you were doing so in his head. eventually, his hand grabbed your face, lifting it up to see your eyes. “rough or soft?” he asks.

you lift a brow. “what?” you ask, and he rolls his eyes. “you can’t hear or something?” he asks you, which you didn’t reply to. “you want me to fuck you rough or soft?” he repeats, clapping his hands together roughly and hard to show you rough, then slow and lazy with soft.

a smile spreads. “rough.” you tell him and his brow lifts, part of him didn’t think he even heard you right. “rough?” he echoes. “you sure that’s what you want?” he asks, but you nod before he could even finish.

he nods back at you, pulling his shirt over his head and picking you up effortlessly. he moves the both of you to the end of the bed, a place where he could have more space to do whatever to you. “take your clothes off.” he said but you stayed put. “take them off for me.” you reply and he smirks.

a glint of mischief in his eyes glows. “you think you can order me around?” he replies, amusement lacing his voice. he steps closer, his presence overwhelming as he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “not how this works.” he pulls back slightly, locking eyes with you, a challenge present in his gaze.

with a swift motion, he grabs your shirt, lifting it over your head in one smooth move, leaving you exposed. he tosses it aside, and his eyes trail down your body, taking in every inch as a satisfied grin spreads across his face.

“let’s get these off too,” he says, moving to your pants. he kneels in front of you, fingers deftly working on the button and zipper, glancing up at you as he slowly pulls them down, savoring the moment.

as he removes your pants, he leans in closer, whispering, “you’re gonna love this.” he finishes the task, leaving you bare before him, a mix of excitement and nervousness hanging in the air. rafe straightens up, his gaze intense, filled with a dark satisfaction as he takes in the result of his handiwork.

you were quiet, but the need in your eyes lit up. he shifted between your legs, pushing your thighs wider apart with his knees. his free hand wrapped around his cock, thick and heavy, and he slowly dragged the swollen tip through your folds.

your jaw drops, looking down. “are you ready?” he asked, his eyes watching yours. you nod and he smiled, teasing the thick head up and down your entrance, pressing just slightly against your tight hole before pulling back again. “such a smart girl.” he comments, looking around your dorm room with books that he had no idea existed.

he leaned down, his chest brushing your tits, making you feel even smaller. the weight of him, the heat of his body, it was overwhelming.

he nudged the tip against your entrance again, this time pushing in just a little, barely the head, stretching you open before he stopped. you whimpered, trying to roll your hips for more, but he held you still with his hips. “uh uh.” he scolded softly, lips brushing your ear. “you don’t get it yet. not until I say so.” he said.

you pout and he kisses it off your lips. he rocked his hips in shallow little movements, letting just the fat tip slide in and out, teasing you. every time you thought he’d finally push deeper, he pulled back again, leaving you clenching around nothing.

“doin’ so good.” he muttered, voice husky. he pressed in a little deeper this time, still not even half, and groaned at how tightly you gripped him. “fuck. that’s it. keep squeezing around my cock like that.” his hand slid down to grip your hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he continued the slow, torturous teasing. “does that feel good?” you ask, your sentence interrupted by your own moan.

he nods, looking into your eyes. “beg for it,” he said against your neck, biting down gently. “tell me how bad you want the rest.” he tells you. for a second, you thought it was a joke. beg?

but you do so anyway. “please rafe, please.” you cry out, brows furrowed. “sound so pretty,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “say it again.” he whispers. you swallowed hard, cheeks burning. “please, rafe… please.” you whimper.

he groaned softly, clearly enjoying how desperate you sounded. he pressed the fat tip against your entrance again, this time pushing in just a little further, enough to stretch you open but still nowhere near enough. “you’re so tight,” he rasped, eyes locked on your face. “Begging like a good little nerd… all polite and pathetic for my cock.” he taunts. “nerd?” you echo, lifting a brow.

he smiled, pausing. “you’re such a nerd.” he echoes, looking around the environment. “no, i’m not. i’m just smarter than you…which to be fair isn’t hard.” you reply. he laughs, looking at you in your eyes. “say it again” he tells you.

when you start the sentence, he rocked his hips in shallow thrusts, fucking just the head in and out of you, teasing mercilessly. you choke on your sentence, gasping. “what was that?” he teased.

you tried to push up to take more, he pulled back, keeping full control. you shook your head, dismissing his ask. he laughed in your face, loving the fact you shut up and took it. “you want me deeper?” he asked, voice rough as he looked down between your bodies, watching how his thick cock stretched your tiny pussy. “you think this little pussy can even handle all of me?” he teased.

you nodded quickly, breathing fast. “please. i want it. please, rafe.” you beg. he smirked, clearly satisfied. it was crazy to him that he broke you down so easily— but again. you’re a virgin. anybody can do that. one of his big hands slid down to grip your thigh, spreading you even wider as he finally started pushing in deeper. he kept it slow, thick, and relentless.

“that’s it,” he groans, his voice low. “keep begging and i might give you every inch.” he taunted.

rafe watched your face closely as you kept whimpering those soft little pleases, and something in him snapped. “fuck” he muttered. he gripped your hip with one hand, the other still pinning your wrists above your head, and slowly pushed forward. his thick cock sank into you inch by inch, stretching your tight pussy open wide. you gasped sharply, back arching off the bed as he kept going, relentless, until his hips finally pressed flush against yours, every single inch buried deep inside you.

you gasp for air, his dick was way too big. “shit…” he groaned, low and rough. “look at that. such a tiny little nerd pussy taking all of me. didn’t think you could handle it, baby.” he said.

you were so full it almost hurt, the size difference between you two making it even more intense. he was so much bigger, his broad body completely covering yours, hips settled heavy between your spread thighs. rafe leaned down closer, lips brushing your ear as he stayed buried to the hilt, grinding slow and deep.

your legs shake, your moans gaining volume. “fuck.” he mutters. he pulled back just a little, then slammed back in hard, making you moan loudly. his pace started picking up, deep and possessive strokes that had your smaller body jolting underneath him with every thrust.

“you feel that?” he said against your neck. “feel how deep i am? no one else is ever gonna stretch you out like this.” he teased, but it was true. he let go of your wrists so he could grab both your thighs, pushing them wider apart as he fucked you harder, his heavy balls slapping against you with every thrust.

“beg some more,” he rasped, voice dark. “tell me how good it feels getting ruined by my cock.” he tells you, but you couldn’t, all you could do is moan.

rafe kept his thick cock buried deep inside you, grinding slow and heavy, when he suddenly grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed your legs up. he folded you easily, pressing your knees toward your chest until your legs rested over his broad shoulders. the new angle made him sink even deeper, as you let out a broken moan.

“there we go,” he murmured, voice low and dark. “look at you… all folded up for me like a little toy.” he mocks. he started thrusting again, deep and rough strokes that made your tits bounce with every move. it felt too good. overwhelming. your eyes started watering, tears slipping down your cheeks as your mouth fell open in silent cries.

rafe noticed immediately. a smug smirk spread across his face. “aww, are you crying already?” he cooed mockingly, still pounding into you. “poor little nerd can’t handle how deep i’m fucking her?” he taunts. one of his big hands slid up and wrapped around your throat, fingers pressing just enough to make your head spin while he kept thrusting. his other hand fisted into your hair, yanking your head back against the pillow so you had no choice but to look up at him.

tears kept falling faster now, soft sobs mixing with your moans as he hit that spot inside you over and over.

“fuck, you’re so pathetic like this,” he laughed lowly, tightening his grip on your neck just a little more. “crying because my cock feels too good? keep those tears coming, baby. they look real pretty on that smart little face.” he said. your pussy throbs at the way he’s talking to you. who would’ve known that the nerdy girl liked being talked to like this?

he pulled your hair harder, using it as leverage to fuck you even deeper, hips slamming against your ass with every rough thrust. your legs shook over his shoulders, body trembling underneath his much larger frame.

“that’s it… cry for me while i ruin this tight pussy,” he growled, eyes locked on your tear streaked face.

rafe kept your legs pinned high over his shoulders, fucking you deep and steady while his hand stayed wrapped around your throat. your tears were still falling, soft sobs slipping out every time he bottomed out inside you.

“i’m— rafe— i’m gonna—” you whimpered, voice breaking and cracking, your moans interrupting you. but he knew what you were saying. “yeah? you’re gonna cum already?” he mocked, smirking down at your tear streaked face. “go ahead then, nerd. cum all over my cock.” he says.

your whole body tensed hard as the orgasm slammed into you. your pussy clenched and fluttered wildly around his thick length, soaking the condom with slick, warm cum. you cried out sharply, legs shaking violently over his shoulders as you came hard, tears pouring down your cheeks.

rafe groaned at the feeling, watching your face the entire time. “fuck… that’s it. look at you making such a mess,” he laughed lowly, still thrusting through your orgasm. “crying and cumming like a little slut for me.” he coos.

before you could even catch your breath, he pulled out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. in one smooth, strong motion he flipped you over onto your stomach. he grabbed your hips and put your ass up high, pushing your face down into the pillow.

face down, ass up. exactly how he wanted you. “good girl,” he growled, slapping your ass before lining his thick cock up again. he pushed back inside you in one rough thrust, burying himself balls deep in your still-spasming pussy. “now stay just like this,” he ordered, one hand fisting tightly in your hair while the other gripped your hip, pulling you back onto his cock. “ass up for me while i keep fucking you stupid.” he laughed.

rafe fucked into you from behind, gripping your hips tight as he buried his thick cock back inside your soaked pussy. the new position had your ass high in the air and your face pressed into the pillow. “fuck, this ass looks so good up like this,” he groaned, starting to thrust rough and deep. every stroke was heavy, his hips smacking against you loudly.

he leaned over your back, one hand sliding up to grip the back of your neck, pinning you down harder while the other kept your hips pulled back onto his cock. “you like getting fucked like a little slut?” he asked, voice low and filthy against your ear. “tell me.” he teases.

you could barely think straight, the pleasure hitting you so hard your voice came out in high-pitched squeals mixed with moans. “yes— yes, yes!” you squealed, voice cracking as he pounded into you. “yes, rafe— yes!” your squeals got louder and more desperate with every rough thrust, your smaller body jolting forward each time he drove deep. tears were still leaking from your eyes, soaking the pillow underneath your face.

rafe laughs, tightening his grip on your neck as he kept fucking you mercilessly. “that’s right. keep yelling for me, nerd. let me hear how stupid my cock makes you.” he says. he slapped your ass hard, then gripped both cheeks, spreading you open wider so he could watch his thick length disappear inside you over and over.

“again,” he demanded, voice rough. “tell me who this pussy belongs to while you scream.” he says.

rafe kept pounding into you from behind, his hips slamming against your ass with every rough thrust. your face was buried in the pillow, back arched deep, ass held high for him while he gripped your neck and hair. “say my name,” he growled, yanking your head back by your hair.

“loud.” he said, making sure you knew. “rafe—” you squealed, voice breaking as he drove even deeper. “raf— rafe—!” he smiled, hearing that.

every thrust pulled another desperate squeal out of you. your smaller body was shaking uncontrollably under his much bigger frame, pussy clenching tight around his thick cock. “again,” he demanded, slapping your ass hard while tightening his grip on your neck. “louder.”

“rafe! rafe— oh my god, rafe!” you cried out, squealing his name like a broken record, tears soaking the pillow.

he groaned deeply, fucking you faster, harder, chasing his own high. “fuck, that’s it… keep saying my name while you cum,” he rasped. “i’m close— cum with me, baby.” he told you. your whole body tensed hard, legs shaking violently as the pressure became too much. you squealed his name one last time, loud and broken.

“rafe— rafe— i’m cumming—!” your pussy spasmed wildly around him, gushing all over the condom as you came hard. rafe cursed under his breath, burying himself as deep as possible and holding you there while he came right after you, thick pulses filling the condom as he groaned your name against the back of your neck.

both of you stayed locked together, breathing hard, bodies trembling. rafe kept his hand around your neck, possessive even after he finished, pressing soft kisses against your shoulder while you whimpered softly.

spankyourlocalbrat

Can you write a smut about Rafe and reader are in an arranged marriage. How will their sex life be? Can you make up a story where they do it intensely?

notes. i def don’t think you wanted a fanfic that was this long, but i saw so much potential in this idea i just couldn’t help myself to write this for you. this took me days to do, so enjoy! this is for all of my lovers who love backstory & character development. i tried my best! this is so long but so cute and worth it (in my opinion)

content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, arranged marriage, fluff, arguing, tad angst, cussing, so much backstory, no proof read, cuddling, slow burn, make up sex, tender mornings, rough sex, hair pulling, love making, rafe spitting in reader’s mouth, degrading, praising, showering together, wife!reader, husband!rafe, ass slapping/spanking, backshots, choking, slight wording of cnc(?), some intimate scenes, brat taming, edging

ward wants his son to have a good girl. he’s told rafe the standards he should look for, not a drug addict, someone sweet, someone good to him. simple enough, but rafe never followed through. he went for party girls who had no direction in life, fucked girls for drugs, and messed around with ones who’d been passed around so much they’d probably had every std in the book.

then you came along.

ward was immediately interested. he’d spoken to you before, when you were planting flowers in homemade vases along your front yard fence. you had this soft, sweet charm he’d never seen in any of the girls rafe usually brought around.

you didn’t expose yourself in everyday clothes, you spoke like you didn’t even know curse words existed, and you carried yourself with a modesty that felt rare. you were perfect for the cameron image. the kind of girl who could clean up rafe’s mess of addictions and reckless behavior.

when the wedding came, rafe had no real say. you were beautiful, sure, but he wasn’t ready to let go of his old life. so on your wedding night, after you were officially married, he didn’t say much. he was still adjusting.

you found him in the bathroom, a towel wrapped low around his waist while he brushed his teeth. you poked gently at his side. “hi,” you said, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

he glanced down at the spot you’d poked, then looked at you. toothbrush still in his mouth. “…hello.” you smiled, a playful little pout forming on your lips. “that’s all i get?”

he stayed quiet for a second, eyes now fully on you. “what am i supposed to say?” he asked and you shrugged. “i don’t know… we just got married!” excitement colored your voice. “yeah,” he replied dryly, spitting into the sink. “trust me, i’m aware.” he adds.

your smile faltered, and you swallowed. rafe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “look, i’m not trying to be a dick. this whole thing is just… a lot.” he explained. you nodded, looking up at him. “is there anything i can do to help you relieve some stress?” your brows furrowed in genuine concern. “anything you need?” you ask.

he stared at you for a long moment. “a drink,” he said flatly. you frowned. “i don’t think that’s what you need,” you replied softly. his eyebrow lifted. “you’ve been my wife for three hours and you’re already arguing with me?” he asked, sarcasm thick in his tone.

you didn’t answer. instead, you gave a small, quiet nod and walked out of the bathroom.

the whole adjustment process to rafe was strange. one day, you were receiving nothing but attitude and toxicity, and the next, little moments of kindness that caught you off guard.

coming from a family who handled their feelings by sitting down and talking things out didn’t exactly prepare you for someone like rafe. he thought he knew everything, and even when he knew he was wrong, getting an apology out of him was like pulling teeth.

he wasn’t even close to what you imagined in a husband before his father came talking to you. you wanted someone sweet, mature, someone who didn’t treat every disagreement like a battle. someone who could tell you what was wrong instead of making you figure it out yourself.

just like the first night of your honeymoon, he was still angry. still angry at his father for putting him in this situation, for making choices for him like he was a kid. it was around two in the morning, and he was sitting out in the living room of the hotel ward had paid for in another country.

every now and then his voice would rise, frustration bleeding into every word as he talked on the phone about how he was sick of everyone deciding his life for him. his voice carried all the way down the hall to the bedroom, and you sat there on the bed with your hair in a messy bun, listening to every word.

when he kept going, something in you finally gave out. quietly, you got up and headed to the closet, pulling your suitcase onto the floor and beginning to pack the clothes you’d brought with you.

when rafe heard the movement, he ended the call and walked into the room, stopping when he saw you calmly folding your things into the suitcase.

“what are you doing?” he asked, but he could obviously see what you were doing. you didn’t look up instead just continued. “packing.” you reply. rafe stared at the suitcase for a second. “i can see that.” he said and you folded another shirt. “then why’d you ask?” you interviewed, and he went quiet. his jaw tightened, like he was holding back a groan. “where are you going?” he asked, looking at everything about you.

your hair, clothes, skin. “home.” you stated, dryly. the answer came so easily that it caught him off guard. “what?” he said. “you’ve spent the whole trip talking about how much you don’t want this. i figured i’d make it easier for you.” you replied.

“that’s not—” he started and you scoffed. “not what?” you cut him off, as you looked at him. “i heard you, rafe.” you mention and you got nothing but silence.

he then shifted his weight. “you’re seriously packing because i was pissed off?” he asked and you let out a small laugh mid sentence. “because you were pissed off? no.” you correct, another shirt landed in the suitcase.

“because you’ve made it very clear you don’t want me here.” you said and it was visible that something uncomfortable settled in his chest, that wasn’t what he’d been trying to say. at least, not anymore. “stop.” he demanded.

you ignored him, adjusting your shirt on your shoulder. “i said stop.” he repeated. “why?” you ask, looking up to meet his gaze. the question hit him harder than he expected, because he didn’t have a good answer at all to give you, because a couple days ago he would’ve gladly watched you walk away, but because now that you were actually doing it, he couldn’t stand the sight of it.

“just…” he rubbed a hand over his face. “stop packing for five seconds.” he told you, approaching slowly as if you were an angry animal that would pounce any moment. you scoff as if he had asked you something insane, the audacity he had making you began to get angry.

“no rafe!” you say, looking at him, your volume catching him off guard. “you don’t like me, so i’m leaving. simple. i don’t need your permission.” you stated, keeping eye contact with him. his face went cold, staring at you. “i’m not stupid, nor am i gonna waste my time! i’m leaving.” you yelled, and he didn’t even react. but he did scoff when you told him you were leaving.

because he knew you weren’t, you can pack all the shit you want but he knew in his head, you weren’t leaving him. not him.

“you’re not leaving.” he stated, and you looked up at him and laughed. “watch me.” you told him, moving to the nightstand and getting your phone charger out and makeup. “i’m serious.” he told you, standing still while watching you, his tone spoke for itself. “so am i.” you flash a fake smile before rolling your eyes, putting your charger in your pocket and makeup in the suitcase. “you’re my wife.” he stated.

“a wife you don’t even want!” you correct. “i didn’t say that.” he responds, and you looked at him as if he wasn’t crazy. “yeah right” you say, rolling your eyes with attitude. his expression darkened, anger lingering in his eyes. “quit putting words in my mouth.” he demanded and you turned to him fully, crossing your arms.

“then tell me i’m wrong, rafe.”

and he couldn’t, he just sat there looking fucking stupid. “that’s what i thought.” you said quietly now, nodding in acknowledgement and you continued packing.

for the rest of the night, he left you alone. at least, mostly. after another pointless argument, he stormed back into the living room and dropped onto the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. every few minutes he’d hear another zipper, another drawer opening, another reminder that you were actually packing. it got under his skin more than he wanted to admit. twice he got up and walked toward the bedroom, only to turn around before he reached the door.

by three in the morning, he was still sitting awake on the couch, staring at nothing and listening to the sounds coming from the bedroom. he fucked hated hearing the suitcase’s wheels rolling on the floor, and the zippers bit at his patience.

he drifted off on the couch, and by the time he woke up, he heard the sound of the suitcase wheels. at first, he didn’t react, then he looked up to see the bags, all of them. his stomach dropped. “what are you doing?” he asked, but you didn’t answer. you just kept walking toward the door.

“hey.” he said, louder. but he still got nothing. “seriously, where the hell are you going?” he asked while you reached for the handle. “home.” you finally answered. rafe stood up so fast the coffee table rattled. “you’re actually leaving?” he questioned. you laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “what did you think i was doing all night?” you asked.

his jaw tightened, he didn’t have an answer, because he didn’t want to come to speak out loud about this view and also truthfully he’d thought you’d calm down, he’d thought you’d unpack, he’d thought you’d stay.

“so that’s it?” he asked, and you looked at him. “what do you want me to do, rafe?” you asked. he hates that questions like that, because when he’s asked questions like that, most of the time he doesn’t want to answer… and also because for the first time since the wedding, he knew exactly what he didn’t want. he didn’t want you walking out that door.

“don’t go.” he told you. the words came out rough, almost angry, like they had been dragged out of him. “don’t go.” he repeated and you stared at him, your hand still wrapped around the suitcase handle as you searched his face for something real, something that would make any of this make sense.

“give me one reason.” rafe looked away immediately, like he couldn’t stand being pinned down by the question. “i don’t need a reason.” he defends. “yes, you do.” you follow up quickly. “no, i don’t.” he said. you slowly let go of the suitcase handle and shook your head.

“that’s funny.” his eyes narrowed. “what?” he asked. “because every time you want something from me, there’s supposed to be a reason. every time you expect me to understand you, forgive you, follow along with whatever you decide, there’s always some explanation i’m supposed to accept. but now suddenly you want me to stay and i’m just supposed to do it because you said so?” you ask, staring at him.

“what are you talking about?” he asked. “you want me to stay? okay. why?” you question, letting your hands drop to your sides. “because i said so.” he told you. you let out a laugh that held no amusement whatsoever. “that’s not an answer.” you say. his jaw clenched hard enough that you could see the muscle jump.

“can you stop doing that?” he requested. “doing what?” you ask. “turning everything into an interrogation.” he explained and you rolled your eyes. “i’m not interrogating you, rafe. i’m asking a simple question.” you gestured toward the suitcases sitting by the door, packed and ready to go. “you’ve spent this entire trip acting like i’m a burden, like my presence is something you have to tolerate instead of something you actually want.” you stated. “that’s not true.” he continued after you quickly.

“really?” you ask. he went quiet, and that silence told you more than any argument ever could. you nodded slowly. “that’s what i thought.” you repeat again tonight. “i never said you were a burden.” he corrected. “you didn’t have to. you made it obvious enough without saying the words.” you said, flashing a fake comforted smile.

“for fuck’s sake—” he groans. “see?” you interrupted him abruptly. “there you go again.” his hands flew up in frustration. “what do you want me to say?” “the truth.” you yell. “i am telling the truth.” he yelled back. “no, you’re not.” the room fell silent after that, the tension stretching between you until it felt impossible to breathe around it. you took a step closer, refusing to look away from him this time.

“if you want me to stay, tell me why.” rafe looked frustrated enough to punch a wall, his entire body rigid with the effort of holding something back. “because.” he said dryly. “because why?” you ask. “i don’t know.” he swallowed.

“that’s a lie.” his eyes snapped to yours instantly. “you think you know everything, huh?” he questioned bitterly. “no. i think you’re scared to say it.” you mention and his expression hardened. “say what?” he asked. “that maybe you don’t hate me as much as you wanted to.” for a moment neither of you moved. neither of you spoke. the words hung heavily in the air between you.

“i never said i hated you.” he corrected. this time his voice was quieter, stripped of some of its usual anger. you swallowed hard. “then stop acting like i’m impossible to keep around.” rafe looked down at the floor, staring at it for several long seconds before finally lifting his gaze back to yours.

when he spoke again, there was something different in his expression, something tired and honest and completely unguarded. “i got used to you being here, okay?” it wasn’t a grand confession. it wasn’t romantic or dramatic or anything close to the kind of speech people gave in movies. but somehow that made it feel more real.

it was probably the most honest thing he’d said since the wedding, and you could tell how much it cost him to admit it. “and?” you asked softly. he rubbed a hand over his face and let out a slow breath. “and i don’t want you to leave.” he said, finally.

you stare at him. “keep that attitude up, and i’ll stay.” you tell him, opening the door. “you have my number, prove you don’t want me to leave, rafe.” you continue and he rubbed his face, he was livid.

his eyebrows furrowed. “what?” he asked, looking back at you as you open the door wider. “you heard me.” you said. for a second, he just stared. then his expression hardened. “that’s bullshit.” he said, aggressively. “is it?” you respond, sarcastically. “yeah, it is.” he said. “why?” you questioned.

“because you’re putting me in some stupid test.” he responded and you sigh. “no, rafe. i’m leaving.” you stated, and the words hit harder than he expected, so hard that he shifted his weight and his voice was quieter. “then leave.” he said, gesturing toward the door with his hand before letting it drop back down to his leg.

you simply nodded. “okay.”

he didn’t say anything to you after that, you bought a plane ticket back home and you arrived home some time later. you didn’t receive any calls from him when you were boarding the plane and the time prior, but when you got on the plane he started to text you, and call you.

you decided to make him wait, so you turned your phone off. when getting home, the scent of your favorite candle still lingered. the sunlight pouring through your glass french doors stretched across the hallway that you passed from the front door. it was so beautiful, and so much calmer than hanging out with your new husband.

you let your hair down from the bun, your hair touching your skin as you swayed your hips to the kitchen. you made yourself some food, the calm morning still having a warm embrace on you. you sighed, your chest becoming more comfortable and not tight and stressed out.

once you finished making your food and eating it, you headed upstairs. when you reached the second floor, you stripped out of your pants and took your shirt off just for preparation for bed. your bed was calling you, so you made it easier for you.

you opened your door, tossing the clothes to your floor, and you looked at your bed, suddenly realizing rafe sitting there.

“jesus!” you yelled, rushing to cover yourself with the door and peeking your head out to look at him. “would you stop yelling?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “you’re in my house rafe.” you defended, before squinting your eyes at him. “why are you here?” you asked.

“you turned your phone off, what the hell was i supposed to do?” he asked, looking at you. “oh, i don’t know, maybe tell me if you’re on the way?” you offered, and rafe scoffed. “right, because you were doing such a great job answering your phone.” he replied, getting up from the bed and you stared at him.

“that’s not the point.” you stated. “it is the point.” he shot back. “no, rafe, the point is i came home and found a man sitting in my bedroom.” you said to him. “your husband.” he corrected.

“don’t do that.” you scoffed. “do what?” he asked. “use that whenever it’s convenient for you.” you replied and his jaw tightened. “i called you.” he admitted. “and i didn’t answer.” you replied. “yeah, i noticed.” he replied, walking toward the door. “that doesn’t mean you get to break into my house.” you mentioned.

“i didn’t break in.” he said, lifting a brow. you then folded your arms. his hand went to the door, opening it fully to look at you.

“then how did you get in?” you asked and he went quiet for a second. “your spare key.” he admitted. “rafe.” you started. “what?” he asked. “that’s creepy…how the fuck did you even get a spare?” you asked, brows furrowed now. “you getting on a plane and disappearing was crazy.” he mentioned, ignoring your question.

“i told you i was leaving.” you replied. “and i told you not to.” he continued. you rolled your eyes dramatically and pushed past him. “you win.” you said as you rubbed your face with a soft sigh. “i’m so done arguing with you.” you said.

rafe didn’t have a comeback. it was like he didn’t even want to say anything to end the conversation. he wanted you to stay, to talk to him, but you walked past him and sat on the edge of the bed.

“seriously. i’m tired.” you assured and watched as he watched you pull the blankets back.

“that’s it?” he asked.

you looked over your shoulder. “what else is there to say?” you asked. he opened his mouth, then closed it again. there was that fucking question again. you sighed.

“if you really came all the way here just to sit in my bedroom and be angry, you can sleep here if you want.” you said. rafe stared at you. “maybe argue with me in my sleep.” you laughed softly, but he didn’t laugh. he rolled his eyes.

“that’s not why i came.” he said.

“okay.” you replied softly, providing him a soft and gentle out to this argument. but the fact that you didn’t argue made the situation worse to him. the way you just simply laid down and turned away from him made the room fall quiet.

“you’re just gonna go to sleep?” he asked.

you let out a tired laugh. “what do you want from me, rafe?” you asked once more and he didn’t answer. because that was the problem, he wasn’t entirely sure. he was never sure when that question came out.

all he knew was that seeing you leave had felt wrong, and now that he’d found you again, the fight suddenly seemed a lot less important than it had a few hours ago.

after a long moment, he looked away. “move over.” he said roughly. you raised an eyebrow. “thought you’d never ask.” you said, moving over. “don’t make it weird.” he muttered, laying down next to you.

“you’re sitting in my room.” you said, turning to look at him. “our room.” he corrected, and to that admission, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. the most physical touch he’s given you is from you giving up on an argument. you laughed at that thought. he was impossible, and so annoying.

you woke up gently, you could hear the sound of his phone faintly. you stretched lightly on the bed, getting up and sitting on your knees on the bed, hair falling loose as you finally looked at him properly.

he glanced up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours. “what time is it?” you ask. “three.” he responded and your eyes widened a little. “i should probably get up and make us lunch.” you said, as you shifted forward on your knees, then leaned toward him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

he stiffened slightly, not pulling away, just surprised by the sudden closeness after everything. but you came from a family of affection, of tender love. so a kiss after you wake up was mandatory. you brushed a soft kiss along his jaw, then another near his neck. his hand paused mid scroll on his phone.

“do you want that? or do you want delivery?” you asked, your eyes meeting his again. he stared at you for a second, confused if he should be upset or happy you’re acting this way. “…why are you acting like yesterday didn’t happen?” he asked, you hummed softly, still close. “did it change what you want to eat?” you ask, and that caught him off guard.

his jaw tightened like he was trying not to react too much. “that’s not the point.” he commented. you smiled a little, backing up from him. “okay. then what’s the point?” you asked, he didn’t answer immediately. because the truth was, he didn’t know how to respond to you being soft with him again after everything.

he set his phone down. “i don’t know what’s going on with you.” he stated. “i’m just being nice, rafe.” you respond and he let out a short breath. “yeah. that’s the problem.” he said. you pushed your lips into a thin line, running your hand through his hair as you get up. “so, you want me to make it?” you ask.

he looked at you for a second longer than necessary. “i didn’t say that.” he said, you sigh and you tilted your head slightly. “you didn’t say anything.” you stated. that got a reaction out of him, but just a faint shift in his expression. “…just don’t burn anything.” he said. you smiled, getting up from the bed and already moving toward the door. “that’s not an answer.” you said.

he exhaled through his nose, setting his phone down on the bed. “yeah, fine. make it.” he said, a pause settling between you two. then, he spoke up quietly. “i’m not trying to fight with you.” he said, his tone unrecognizable because of how sweet it was. you glanced back at him. he wasn’t looking at you anymore, instead looking at the bed. “i know.” you gently responded.

you finally leave the room, making your way down to the stairs, the cold air biting at your skin, your eyes looking out your glass french doors and seeing ward and some random guy. you pause, looking down at your body that only had a bra and panties on.

you go back upstairs calmly, luckily they hadn’t seen you, despite your french doors being so open to the house. you go to your walk in closet, putting your hair up before putting on a top and shorts, and making your way to the bedroom to rafe. “uh. your dad is outside with some guy.” you told rafe, rafe lifted a brow.

“what guy?” he asked. you shook your head slightly, shrugging. “i don’t know. i just saw them through the glass doors.” you responded. his expression changed immediately, it was subtle, but sharp. ward seemed like he was a trigger for him, judging by how tense he got.

he sat up a little straighter. “he didn’t call.” he mentions. “does he ever?” you jokingly respond but that made his jaw tighten. rafe pushed himself off the bed. “yeah, okay.” he mumbled to himself. he grabbed his phone off the nightstand, already unlocking it. “he’s probably trying to turn this into some kind of meeting.” he mumbled to himself once more.

it seemed like he was trying to calm himself down, by his own voice and words while you watched him. “you want me to go downstairs?” you ask. he glanced at you for half a second. “no.” he said firmly. then, he swallowed. “just… stay here.” he added, his tone less strict.

there was a pause before he added, quieter, like it slipped out without thinking. “i’ll handle it.” he assured you, before brushing past you. you bite your cheek and sit on the bed, holding your face.

you spent a couple minutes up there, hearing quiet voices that stretched upstairs, you couldn’t hear them completely but rafe was mad about something. then you hear rafe coming back upstairs, when he found you, he didn’t say much.

“my dad’s downstairs.” he started, and you looked up. “yeah, i know.” you responded back and he hesitated. he shifts his weight. “he wants you down there.” he told you and your brows furrow in confusion. “why?” you question. rafe exhaled through his nose.

“just come on.” he told you, you studied him for a second, then followed. the moment you walked into the dining room, you felt it. too many chairs, it was too formal just for a quick chit chat. ward sitting like he owned the air itself, and someone else. a woman you didn’t know.

rafe stopped behind you. “what is this?” he asked, and ward gestured lightly. “sit down.” ward said but rafe didn’t move. “no. what is this.” he asked once again. a pause settled, and then ward leaned forward slightly.

“this is a marriage counselor.” rafe’s expression went completely still. “…you brought a therapist.” rafe started, glaring at ward. “for you and your wife.” ward explained, staring at rafe. rafe let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

“without telling me?” rafe asked. ward’s voice stayed calm. “you weren’t going to agree if i asked.” he explained. rafe looked at him for a long moment, then glanced at you, then back at ward.

the anger he was feeling wasn’t loud it was controlled, and dangerous underneath.

“you don’t get to manage my marriage like a business deal.” rafe stated and ward didn’t flinch. “then start acting like it isn’t one.” ward clapped back.

rafe stood, arms stiff at his sides as ward looked up from his seat. ward didn’t look at him, his eyes went straight to you. a soft smile settled on his face. “hi sweetheart.” he coos. you blinked, a little surprised but you smiled back automatically.

“hi.” you reply, giving him a soft wave. ward’s tone warmed just slightly. “how are you doing?” he asked, you hesitated for half a second, then answered honestly, still polite. “i’m okay… a little confused.” you say.

“understandable,” he said smoothly. “this is a lot for you.” he gently said. rafe’s jaw tightened behind you. ward gestured toward the empty chair. “why don’t you sit down, sweetheart.” he offered. you glanced back at rafe briefly, then sat.

rafe didn’t move, which made ward finally look at him now. “you too, rafe.”

rafe let out a short breath through his nose. “no.” he said firmly but ward’s expression didn’t change. “sit.” he commanded, silence stretched then rafe slowly pulled out the chair and sat, but his posture stayed rigid. ward folded his hands. “i wanted to talk to both of you properly.”

rafe cut in immediately. “you could’ve told me what this was.” he said. ward tilted his head slightly. “you wouldn’t have come.” ward stated. rafe scoffed. “yeah. because it’s insane.” ward ignored that, eyes shifting back to you.

“i just want to make sure you’re settling in alright, sweetheart.” he explained to you, which you nodded softly. “i think i am… it’s just been a lot of change.” you describe with a smile. “of course it has,” ward said gently. “you’ve been very patient with everything.” he compliments, rafe looked between you two, disbelief flickering across his face. because he knew that tone.

it wasn’t real warmth, it was strategy. and seeing it directed at you made it worse for him, his anger started to boil even more than before.

then counselor offered a polite smile.

“thank you both for sitting down with me today. i know this probably wasn’t how either of you expected to spend your afternoon.” she said. “you got that right,” rafe muttered.

ward shot him a look but the counselor ignored it. “why don’t we start with something simple? how has married life been so far?” she asked, her eyes on you. you smiled politely. “it’s been an adjustment.” you answer. “that’s a very mature answer.” she complimented and you smiled once again. “thank you.”

“and for you, rafe?” she asked, writing down something before looking up at him. he leaned back in his chair. “it’s been great.” the deadpan answer made the counselor pause. “great?” she echoes. “yeah. fantastic.” he repeated. you closed your eyes briefly. “rafe.” you said.

“what?” he asked.

the counselor offered a patient smile. “i’m assuming that’s sarcasm.” she replied. “good catch.” he stated, ward rubbed his forehead. you could practically feel the tension radiating off rafe. the counselor tried again. “what has been the most difficult part?” she asked. “my father arranging the whole thing.” he said flatly.

“rafe.” you repeat, looking at him. “what? she asked.” he said. the woman nodded. “that’s a fair answer.” she said. rafe looked surprised for a second. “it is?” he asked and she nodded. “yes.”

his expression softened slightly. “oh.” he murmurs. you glanced at him and the counselor smiled. “you’re allowed to be frustrated. i think what we’re trying to figure out is what comes after that frustration.” she explains, and rafe looked away.

for a moment, nobody spoke and under the table, you carefully reached for his hand. his fingers immediately tensed, you honestly expected him to pull away, but he didn’t. instead, he glanced at you. you rubbed your thumb across the back of his hand once, just once.

a silent reminder that he wasn’t alone in this conversation. so, when the counselor spoke again, his answer came out less sharp. “i don’t know.” he said. the room went quiet.

“that’s okay,” she said gently. “you don’t have to know everything right now.” she continued. rafe looked down at the table, then at your hand still holding his. “i’m just trying to figure it out.” he said, being the most honest he’s been with her since sitting down. she wasn’t getting that confession again, and the woman could tell.

after ward and the woman left, rafe had been distant. quieter than usual. he wasn’t giving you the cold shoulder exactly, but the warmth from the night before had cooled. he kept himself busy, answers short, eyes avoiding prolonged contact. like he was rethinking everything that had been dragged out in front of that stranger.

you hated the shift. so later in the day, when the house felt too heavy with silence, you stood in the doorway of the bedroom and said softly, “rafe… come take a shower with me.” he looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, jaw tight. for a second you thought he might say no. his pride was still stinging.

“i’m fine,” he muttered, even though he clearly wasn’t. you didn’t push hard. you just tilted your head, voice gentle. “you don’t have to talk. i just… want you close. please?” you plead softly.

one thing your mother taught you was intimacy was something every couple needed, especially after such an intense experience for him.

that last word always did something to him. he stared at you for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose and stood up without another word. he followed you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him a little harder than necessary.

once the water was running hot and steam started filling the space, he undressed slowly, still not looking at you much. but when you stepped under the spray and held your hand out to him, he took it. he let you pull him in.

the moment the water hit his shoulders, some of the tension in his back eased. you didn’t force conversation. you just washed his hair, fingers gentle against his scalp, and he eventually leaned into your touch. his arms came around your waist after a while, forehead resting against your shoulder as the water ran over both of you.

he didn’t say much, but the way he held you tighter than usual told you everything. the distance was still there, but it was cracking. this was his version of letting you back in, quiet, physical, a little grumpy, but present.

he wasn’t sure why he was doing this, but it definitely was not because he suddenly loved vulnerability, but because you asked, and deep down he needed the closeness more than he wanted to admit.

standing under the warm spray, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering for a second against his damp skin. “what do you need, rafe?” you asked gently, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. he stayed quiet at first, water running down his shoulders, then his voice came low and rough. “i just need you.” he said.

the words settled between you like something heavy and honest. you didn’t push for more. instead you stayed close, letting the shower run over both of you for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence. his arms stayed wrapped around your waist, your bodies pressed together under the steady stream, the tension in him slowly easing.

after a while you pulled back slightly and brushed wet strands of hair from his face. “go ahead and get out, okay? go lay down. i’ll make you some dinner and then we can watch tv.” he suggest. he nodded, agreeing without argument for once. as he stepped toward the edge of the shower, he paused, cupped your face with one hand, and leaned in. his lips met yours in a soft, simple peck, your first kiss.

you blinked, a little shocked, warmth blooming across your cheeks as he pulled away. he didn’t say anything else, just gave you a small look before stepping out and grabbing a towel.

you stayed under the water a moment longer, washing your hair with slow fingers. your mind kept drifting back to that kiss, the unexpected gentleness of it, the way it felt both new and familiar at the same time. a quiet smile tugged at your lips while the steam swirled around you.

when you got out the shower, you quickly got dressed and headed out to your bedroom, giving rafe a soft glance while making your way to the stairs. you get downstairs, and search your freezer for any type of food you had.

you didn’t want to give him something fancy to overwhelm him, just somethin’ easy so he wouldn’t have to wait for a good while.

when you finally came back upstairs, balancing two plates in your hands, the television was still playing quietly in the background. rafe hadn’t moved much. he was stretched across the bed, one arm behind his head, staring at the screen without really watching it.

his eyes shifted toward you when you entered. “food.” you calmly said as you held up the plate. that got a small reaction. he sat up slowly as you placed the plate on his lap.

a burger and fries. nothin fancy. just something warm, maybe familiar. it was something filling, something easy.

rafe looked down at it, then up at you. “you made this?” he asked, you smiled. “obviously.” you respond. “you didn’t have to.” he mutters. you shrugged. “i wanted to.” you whisper to him, for a moment, he just stared at the food, then he picked up a fry.

“thanks.” he said, the words were quiet, almost awkward coming from him, but they were genuine.

that was good enough for you, so you smiled. “you’re welcome.” you said, he nodded once and looked back down at his plate, still very quiet. still thinking about whatever had been running through his head all afternoon.

but not quite as distant as before.

before you could get comfortable, rafe looked at you once again. your eyes met and he grabbed your plate and his, moving them to the nightstand. he pulled you to him as he kissed you, slow and deep, like he had been holding back for hours.

the tv hummed softly in the background, some show neither of you were really watching anymore. you melted into the kiss, your hands sliding up his chest as his fingers threaded gently through your hair. the makeout grew heavier, more intimate.

tongues brushing, breaths mixing, his grip on your waist tightening just enough to keep you close. he was surprisingly gentle at first, savoring every second, every little sound you made.

his hands moved carefully, sliding under your shirt and lifting it slowly over your head. you did the same with his, palms exploring the warm skin of his chest and shoulders. clothes came off piece by piece between kisses; your shorts, his sweatpants, until there was nothing between you.

he laid you back against the pillows, hovering over you, eyes dark but soft as he took you in fully. his gaze traced every inch of your body like he was memorizing it.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your neck, voice low and rough. he kissed down your collarbone, taking his time, hands gentle as they roamed your sides and thighs.

when he finally settled between your legs, he moved with a patience you didn’t expect from him, slow, deep thrusts, letting you feel every moment. your jaw dropped softly, his size stretching you. his forehead pressed to yours, breaths shared, bodies moving together in a steady rhythm that felt both intense and tender.

he stayed gentle through it all at the start, hands cradling your face, lips brushing yours between gasps, completely focused on you. the earlier distance had cracked wide open, replaced by something warmer, more vulnerable, as the two of you lost yourselves in each other.

rafe kept going, his pace deepening as he pressed more of his weight down onto you through his hips. each thrust hit harder now, the pressure intense and overwhelming in the best way, his body pinning you firmly into the mattress.

he buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking along your skin, lips hot and relentless as he marked you with every breath.

you lost your breath beneath him, gasping softly with every heavy stroke. his cock felt so thick and deep inside you, filling you completely. your legs stayed spread wide for him, trembling and quivering as he fucked straight into your g-spot over and over again. the sensation was almost too much, heavy delicious pleasure that made your toes curl and your thighs shake.

your hands flew up, gripping tightly onto the bed frame above your head for some kind of anchor while he drove into you. rafe didn’t ease up. he stayed right there, heavy and relentless, hips rolling with purpose, grinding against you on every thrust. his mouth never left your neck, kissing, licking, biting gently as low groans rumbled from his chest.

the weight of him, the way he fucked you so deep and steady, had you breathless and dizzy, completely lost in the feeling of him. his cock felt impossibly heavy inside you, stretching and rubbing every sensitive spot until your whole body was trembling beneath him.

his hips pressing all his weight down with every thrust, driving his cock right into that perfect spot inside you. the pressure was overwhelming, his thick length stretching and rubbing you so good you could barely think. your legs shook violently around him, still spread wide as your body tightened more and more.

“rafe—” you gasped, breath coming out in short, desperate pants. the pleasure built impossibly high until it crashed over you. you came hard around his cock, walls clenching and pulsing as waves of heat flooded through you. your mouth fell open, panting desperately for air because his cock felt so fucking good, pushing you through every throbbing second of your orgasm.

“that’s it, baby,” rafe murmured against your neck, voice low and rough with praise. he kept moving through it, slower but still deep, grinding against you. “you’re doing so good for me. fuck, cum on my cock just like that… let me feel you.” he rambled.

your hands stayed gripping the bed frame, body trembling as you rode it out. he kissed along your jaw and neck, then pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and intense.

“i’m sorry for being mean to you,” he whispered, still buried inside you, voice thick with emotion. “i don’t want you to go. i want you to stay… with me.” he said to you. he kept praising you softly between kisses, hips still rocking gently as you came down, breathless and warm beneath him.

you came hard all over his dick, your slick warmth coating every inch of him, dripping down his length with every thrust. your walls fluttered and squeezed around him so tightly, soaking him completely as your body shook beneath his weight.

“fuck, just like that,” he groaned, voice breaking with pleasure. his hips stuttered, losing their rhythm as he buried himself as deep as he could go. he came hard inside you, thick ropes of cum spilling deep into your pussy, filling you up with every heavy pulse.

you felt every twitch, every warm spurt as he emptied himself completely, his cock throbbing against your sensitive walls while he pressed his hips flush against yours, making sure you took every drop.

his breath was ragged against your neck, body heavy and trembling as he stayed buried inside you, both of you panting and slick with sweat. he kissed your skin softly, still rocking gently through the aftershocks, his cum leaking out around his cock as your bodies stayed locked together.

ever since that day, you two have been fucking like animals. since the day he gave you permission to do everything and anything you wanted to him, the tension between you never really settled. you’d both end up tangled up from the smallest triggers; if he looked at you a certain way, held your hand a little too long, spoke to you in that low voice, bought you random gifts, or even just looked too good while getting dressed.

this time it was over something stupid.. laundry. it had been two months since you two got married, and it still turned you on like crazy seeing him being so domestic, doing shit for you without even being asked. you walked into the laundry room to find him loading the machine, sleeves rolled up, that focused look on his face, and it hit you instantly.

before you could even think, you were bent over the washing machine, hands gripping the edge tightly as rafe shoved your shorts down and pushed inside you in one rough thrust. he was fucking you hard, deep strokes that made the machine shake beneath you.

“fuck, look at you,” he growled, one hand fisting your hair and yanking your head back. “bent over like a little slut just because i’m doing laundry. so fuckin pathetic.” he said.

his other hand came down hard, smacking your ass with a sharp sting that made you moan louder. he did it again, harder, the sound echoing in the small room. you pushed back against him, taking every inch of his thick cock, the size difference hitting you hard as he stretched you open so wide it almost hurt, because you knew he’s forcing you to take it.

rafe leaned over you, his chest pressed to your back, and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. “this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? so tight and greedy for my big dick.” he taunted.

he pulled your head back further and spit directly into your open mouth. “swallow it,” he ordered. you did, whimpering as he fucked you even rougher, hips slamming against your ass. his grip on your neck stayed firm, controlling every movement while he railed you from behind, the wet sounds of your bodies filling the laundry room.

“that’s it, take it like the desperate little housewife you are,” he groaned, smacking your ass again as he buried himself to the hilt over and over. your legs were shaking, hands gripping the washing machine for dear life as he used you exactly how he wanted.

you came so fast when he fucked you like that, but then there were other times where he fucked you and edged you for what felt like days.

you caught an attitude with him at a party at his father’s house. he warned you so many times but you didn’t want to hear it. so when you got home and the front door closed, he snatched you up. you both didn’t even make it to the main bedroom.

he pulled you into the spare room you were renovating into an office. the dress you were wearing was yanked down your legs in seconds, and getting him out of his suit might’ve been a world record.

“turn around and lay on your stomach,” he told you simply. you laughed, shaking your head. “can’t make shit simple, huh?” he asked, his face showing he wasn’t in the mood for your games. he flipped you over firmly but fell on top of you gently, his mouth right next to your ear as he worked your panties down.

“y’been so bad tonight, baby,” he muttered in your ear, pressing his weight down so you couldn’t squirm away. his words came out slow and low as he dragged your panties to your mid-thighs, using them as a makeshift restraint.

“have i?” you asked, voice already breathy.

his left arm hooked around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse race. “mhm,” he hummed against your ear, his heavy cock dragging along the back of your thigh before he lined himself up with your pussy.

he pushed in with one slow, thick thrust, stretching you open as he buried himself deep. a broken moan slipped from your lips. rafe kept his arm locked around your neck, holding you right where he wanted while he started fucking you harder, hips snapping against your ass.

“yeah, you have,” he whispered hotly in your ear, voice rough. “acting like a fucking brat all night… thought i wouldn’t handle you when we got home?” he taunted.

you tried to reply, lips parting, but the way he was pounding into you made it hard to speak. “i—fuck, rafe—” your words came out shaky and strained, breath catching every time he drove deep. your hands gripped the sheets, body rocking forward with each rough thrust while his arm stayed firm around your throat, keeping you pressed into the mattress.

he didn’t let up, lips brushing your ear as he kept whispering. “that’s right. struggle all you want, baby. this pussy still gets so wet for me when you’re in trouble.” he comments.

you tried to talk back, lips parting as you gasped out a shaky reply. “i wasn’t—fuck—” you start. “shut up,” rafe stated low in your ear, cutting you off instantly.

before you could get another word out, he fucked you so much harder, hips slamming into you with brutal force. the sudden intensity knocked the air right out of your lungs.

every thick inch of his cock drove deeper, faster, pounding into you so relentlessly that all you could do was moan and whimper helplessly. coherent words completely failed you now. just broken, desperate sounds spilling from your mouth.

rafe’s large hand quickly moved from your throat to cover your mouth, palm pressing firmly against your lips to muffle the loud noises you couldn’t hold back. “so fucking loud,” he hissed against your ear, still railing you without mercy, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the half renovated office. “can’t even behave for five minutes without screaming for my cock.”

your eyes rolled back, body jolting forward with every savage thrust while his hand kept you quiet. you could barely breathe through the overwhelming pleasure, completely overwhelmed.

you tried to warn him, voice muffled desperately against his palm. “rafe—i’m gonna cum—” you managed to choke out, barely intelligible.

for a moment he kept the brutal pace, hips snapping hard like he was going to let you. “yeah? you wanna cum, baby?” he whispered hot against your ear, sounding almost sweet. his cock drove deep and steady, hitting that spot over and over, pushing you right to the edge.

your body tensed, thighs shaking, right there..then he pulled out completely.

a broken whine escaped you instantly, hips pushing back desperately, searching for him. “did i tell you to speak?” rafe growled, voice dark and low.

before you could even process it, he slammed back into you, rougher than before. his thrusts turned punishing, hips slamming against your ass with raw force, the wet slap of skin filling the room as he fucked you even harder. his hand stayed clamped tight over your mouth, muffling your loud cries while his arm kept you pinned beneath him.

“brats don’t get to cum that easy,” he hissed into your ear, pounding you mercilessly, stretching your soaked pussy around his thick cock with every savage stroke.

you reached back desperately, fingers digging into his biceps, gripping the hard muscle as he kept pounding into you. your mind had gone completely fuzzy, cock drunk and lost in the feeling of him stretching you so deep.

“rafe— fuck… your cock feels so good,” you babbled breathlessly against his hand, words slurring together. “so fucking big… i can’t— it’s so good, baby, please—”

he kept fucking you through your desperate little praises, hips slamming against your ass with wet, filthy sounds. your grip on his arms tightened, nails digging in as your body started trembling again, that familiar pressure building dangerously fast.

“i’m gonna cum—rafe, please, i’m so close—”

he groaned low in your ear, sounding like he was finally going to let you. his thrusts stayed deep and rough, pushing you right up to the edge, right there and then he pulled out again.

you let out a broken, frustrated sob, hips twitching uselessly as the orgasm slipped away. your body was shaking, pussy clenching around nothing while you tried to catch your breath.

rafe gave you just a few seconds to come down, breathing hard against your neck, before he lined himself up and slammed back inside you without warning. he started fucking you even harder than before, the new angle making his thick cock hit even deeper.

“not yet,” he stated, voice dark and teasing in your ear as his hand stayed pressed over your mouth. “you don’t cum until i say so, baby.” he taunted cruelly.

your muffled moans grew louder as he railed you mercilessly again, using your body like he owned it, drawing out your pleasure until you were a trembling, cock drunk mess beneath him once more.

“rafe— please,” you begged, voice muffled and broken against his palm. “let me cum… i’ll be good, i swear. i’ll be your good girl. please baby, i love you— i love you so much, just let me cum on your cock.” your words came out in a desperate, teary babble, body shaking as he kept pounding into you without mercy. rafe’s grip on your mouth tightened slightly, his lips brushing your ear as he listened to you fall apart for him.

“that’s it,” he growled, voice low and rough. “beg like you mean it.” he said. you kept pleading between broken moans, hips pushing back to meet his savage thrusts. “please rafe… i’ll be so good for you. i love you— fuck, please let me cum—” you beg more.

he finally gave in. his thrusts stayed deep and punishing, but he angled his hips just right, slamming into that perfect spot over and over until your whole body locked up.

“cum then,” he ordered against your ear. “cum on my cock like a good little wife.”

the permission hit you like a wave. you came hard, crying out into his hand as your pussy clenched and pulsed around his thick cock, soaking him completely. your legs shook violently, eyes rolling back while pleasure crashed through you in heavy, blinding waves. rafe fucked you through every second of it, groaning at how tightly you squeezed him.

only when your orgasm started to fade did he slow down, still buried deep inside you. he moved his hand from your mouth and pressed a hot kiss to the side of your neck, breathing hard.

“don’t test me again, baby,” he warned. “next time i won’t be so nice.” he teased.

pr3ttypriscilla

lustful nights

description: you seduce your long time crush into sleeping with you, your dads bsf, rafe cameron.

includes: dads bsf, age gap, unprotected sex, p in v

wc: 3,055

now playing - how deep is your love by mistski (instrumental)

The tension between you and Rafe had been building for what felt like forever. It started innocently enough, with him helping you fix your form in golf, your breast "accidentally" brushing against his chest when you brushed past him, the way you'd catch him watching you walk away in those tiny little shorts.

Rafe was your dad's best friend, a man who'd been in and out of your life since you were young. You always had a crush on him, missing the days he would pick you up on Friday’s after school, taking you to lunch. After freshman year of high school he became more busy and those days eventually stopped. With you two growing apart, yet your little school girl crush never seemed to go away, and he seemed to never notice. But over the past couple summers, something had shifted. You were no longer the teenager he remembered, and he then seemed to be noticing.

This month he had come to stay the week over. On the first day, you'd worn a particularly revealing bikini by the pool, making sure to apply sunscreen slowly and deliberately while he watched from the patio. You'd seen the way his jaw tightened, how he'd quickly look away when your dad glanced over.

Yesterday, you'd "forgotten" to grab clothes to leave out after your shower, walking to your room in just a towel wrapped loosely around your body, making sure to go the long way, the hall you’d know he’d walk past. You'd heard his sharp intake of breath, the way he quickly turned around and mumbled something about checking on the grill.

But today was going to be different. Today, you had decided you were going to push all the boundaries. The morning sun filtered through the kitchen windows as you sat at the table with your dad and Rafe. You were wearing a simple white sundress with nothing underneath, a fact that only you knew. Your dad was rambling about some work thing, completely oblivious to the tension.

You pulled out your phone under the table, pretending to check messages as you sent him a video of you last night, touching yourself. Making sure to include just enough of your face for him to recognize it was you. Your heart was pounding as you hit send, watching Rafe's phone buzz on the table beside his coffee mug.

He picked it up casually, expecting a normal notification. You watched as his eyes widened, his fist squeezing his fork. A flush crept up his neck as he quickly locked his phone, placing it face down on the table.

"Everything okay, Rafe?" your dad asked, noticing his friend's strange reaction. "Fine," Rafe muttered, his voice slightly hoarse. "Just some spam." You suppressed a smile, taking a slow sip of your juice as you watched him try to compose himself. Throughout breakfast, you caught his eyes on you multiple times, each time filled with a mixture of shock, confusion, and something else, something darker.

The day passed in a blur. You could feel Rafe's eyes on you whenever you were in the same room, but he kept his distance, clearly trying to process what you'd done. That evening, as you were getting ready for bed, you heard your door open. You turned around, expecting your dad.

But the door opened to reveal Rafe, his expression serious. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Lock your door," he said, his voice low and intense. "We’re going to talk about the text you sent this morning." Your heart raced as you complied, the soft click of the lock echoing in the room. When you turned back around, Rafe was standing in the middle of your room, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What were you thinking?" he asked, his eyes fixed on you. "Sending something like that when your dad was right there?" "I was thinking I wanted your attention," you replied, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. "And it looks like I got it." Rafe ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. "This is inappropriate, you know that, right? I'm your dad's best friend. I've known you since you were a kid."

"I'm not a kid anymore," you stated, leaning back on your elbows, your dress riding up slightly. "And I think you've noticed." His eyes dropped to where the hem of your dress had risen, exposing more of your thighs, before quickly looking away. "This needs to stop. Whatever game you're playing." he says, taking a step towards you.

"Who says it's a game?" you interrupted, your legs over the side of the bed. You slowly raised one foot, placing it against his chest to stop him from taking another step. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your sole. Rafe's breath hitched, his hands coming up to grip your ankle, though he made no move to push you away. "You need to stop," he commanded, though his voice had lost some of its conviction. "Or what?" you challenged, your foot trailing down his body, over his stomach, until it rested against the growing bulge in his pants. "You'll tell my dad? About how his best friend can't stop eye fucking his daughter?"

“Yeah…” you said, humming, “I see the way you look at me… well, my body.” you add with a smile. Rafe's grip on your ankle tightened, his eyes darkening with desire. "What do you want out of this, huh? What do you gain?" "You." you whispered, your foot rubbing against him through his pants. “Stop,” he warned. You smiled, looking up at him, “I know you want this.” you stated, sweetly. "I can't believe you're doing this," Rafe sighed, his voice tight, his eyes fixed on the floor as if looking at you was physically painful. "Get your foot off me. Now."

"I'm not doing anything," you replied softly, keeping your foot pressed firmly against the hard line of him. "I'm just sitting here. You're the one standing in my room." "I came to tell you to stop," he snapped, finally lifting his gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. "To tell you that video. it was a mistake. And you need to fucking behave." he yelled, throwing your foot off of him.

"Yet you watched it," you countered, tilting your head, letting the silence stretch. "And you didn't delete it. I saw you lock your phone, but I didn't see you delete it. You kept it." Rafe took a sharp step back, breaking the contact, running a hand over his face. "I didn't delete it because I was in shock. Because your father was sitting right there. Do you have any idea how close I came to losing my shit on you at the table?"

"Did you?" you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Lose your mind, I mean. Or did you just sit there thinking about what I was doing? About how I looked?" "Stop it," he warned, pointing a finger at you. "You are playing a sick game. I am your father's best friend. I’ve watched you grow up. I’m not... I’m not some guy you can flirt with, I'm practically your uncle."

"I'm not flirting," you admitted, standing up slowly. Your eyes on him as you watch his breath hitch, his eyes instinctively tracking the movement of your body, the way your white dress clinged to you tight. "I'm telling you the truth. I don't want some guy. I want you."

"Just, stop–fuck," he said, his voice rough, turning away from you to pace the small space of the room. You laughed, a low, dry sound, walking over to him, grabbing his jaw to turn towards your face. He stopped pacing. He turned slowly, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek. His gaze swept over you, lingering on the curve of your hips, the exposed skin of your thighs.

"You're making this impossible," he gritted out. "Good," you whispered, taking a step toward him. He didn't retreat, but his body went rigid, every muscle coiled tight. "I want you to stop pretending you don't want this too. I saw you watching me by the pool. I felt you tense up when I walked past you in the hall. You think I don’t notice?"

"I can't," he breathed, his eyes squeezing shut as if in pain. "I’m twice your age." "I don’t care," you said, taking his hand in yours, bringing it down to your stomach. “I watched you grow up.” he whispered, voice ruined. “Rafe.” you said, as you brought his hand lower, dipping it under your dress for him to feel, feel how you had nothing under. “Shit.” he murmured, dropping his forehead down to yours.

With a groan, Rafe gave in, your hands pulling his face closer to yours. He leaned down, his warm breath fanning across your lips. You kissed him softly, light. With it only lasting about 30 seconds until he felt his consciousness slowly creep back in. He started to pull back, shaking his head, “No, no.” he whispered lightly. Your arms stayed wrapped around his neck, pulling him in again. Kissing him harder, as your other hand trailed down, palming him through his pants.

Rafe’s head dropped forward, his mouth open. “Fuck,” he breathed out. You continued touching him, through the fabric. And finally he kissed you hard, all the pent up tension of the past few days finally breaking free. Rafe's lips moved against yours with a need that matched your own, his tongue delving into your mouth as his hands roamed your body.

He walked the two of you back until you felt the bed hit the back of your knees. You wrapped your arms around his neck again, pulling him down with you onto the bed as the kiss deepened. His hands found their way under your dress, touching your bare skin, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. "God, you're not wearing anything under this," he groaned against your lips, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip.

"I told you I wasn't a kid anymore," you replied, arching into his touch. He helped you slowly peel your dress off, watching you. "Fuck," he breathed, his gaze lingering on your breasts before moving down to the wetness between your thighs. "You're perfect." His voice was wrecked. When his fingers found your wetness, you arched off the bed, a whine of pleasure escaping your lips. He teased you mercilessly, his fingers circling your clit without quite touching it, driving you wild with need.

"Rafe, please," you begged, your hands fisting in the sheets. "Please what?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he continued to torture you. "Tell me what you want." he said, softly. "You," you gasped. "I want you." That was all he needed to hear before he quickly tore his own clothes off, body lean and muscular. Your gaze trailed down to him. Mouth watering at the sight of him, thick and hard, already leaking with precum.

He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes locked with yours as he slowly entered you. You both groaned at the sensation, the feeling of him stretching you, filling you completely. Rafe's mouth found yours again, kissing you, biting the bottom of your lip. You whined, in pleasure, eyes squeezing shut. As his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper. You wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with your own.

“God," Rafe groaned, as he pushed frantically into you, moving in and out of you relentlessly. He looked down at you, firmly holding your jaw “Open your eyes baby.” he said, increasing his speed. You bit down on your lip, brows furrowed in pleasure. “Look at me.” he said, harshly, pulling your bottom lip open. You opened your eyes, while he leaned down to kiss you, his other hand working on your breast.

Fuck, you looked so hot like this he thought, hitting places you never felt before. Crying out in pleasure. But you wanted to feel him more, feel all of him. You pushed lightly at his chest, his thrusts slowing a bit in confusion. You breathed out heavily, moving over, pushing him against the bed. He watched you intensely as you climbed over him, slowly sinking yourself down onto him.

A groan tore from Rafe's throat, his head falling back against the pillow, his eyes squeezing shut. The sensation of taking him in this way, of controlling the depth and the speed, was overwhelming. You threw your head back, a moan escaping your lips as you adjusted to his size, feeling every inch of him stretching you, filling you completely.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The feeling was too intense, too much. But it didn't last long. You started to move, slowly at first, rocking your hips in a circular motion that had Rafe's hands tightening on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. Then, faster. Rafe's hips bucked up to meet you, his restraint gone. He was no longer trying to hold back, no longer trying to be careful. His hands moved from your hips to your ass, gripping you tightly, helping you lift and slam down on him with every thrust.

You could feel the pressure building inside you, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to spill over. But you didn't stop. You couldn't stop. You moved faster, harder, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Rafe's hands moved to your throat, squeezing light, his thumbs pressing gently against your pulse point.

His body tensed beneath you, his hips stuttering. You knew what was coming. You could feel it in the way his hands gripped you, in the way his breath hitched in his throat. He was close. Too close. He tried to speak, to warn you, but you silenced him with a kiss, your hips moving faster, harder, refusing to let him stop. You wanted this. You needed this. Needed to feel him.

With a groan that was half agony, half relief, Rafe grabbed your hips, pulling you down hard onto him as he thrust up one last time, burying himself as deep as he could. You felt his body tense, his muscles coiling before he came inside you, warm and deep. You cried out, your own orgasm ripping through you. You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, as you both tried catching your breaths, broken gasps.

The room was now suffocatingly quiet, except for the harsh, uneven sound of Rafe's breathing as he scrambled away from you. He pulled out abruptly, the loss of him leaving a cold emptiness inside you. He didn't look at you. He couldn't. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to you, his head hanging between his hands as he ran his hands through his hair. His shoulders hunched.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice rough. You sat up slowly, the sheets wrapped around you now. You watched the muscles in his back tense and coil as he shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips."I can't believe I did that," he spat, finally turning to look at you. His eyes were filled with a cold, hard regret. "I actually... inside you. Jesus Christ." He stood up, frantically gathering his clothes from the floor. "You have no idea what you've done. No idea."

"I know exactly what I did," you said, your voice calm, steady. You turned, lifting the sheets around you a bit, allowing him to see the red marks his hands had left on your hips, the evidence of what you had just done together. "And so do you." Rafe froze, his shirt clutched in his hand. He turned slowly, his face pale, sweat still drying on his forehead. His gaze swept over you, but this time there was no desire in it. Only anger. "You manipulated me," he accused, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "You planned this. The video, the towel, everything." You looked at him as he watched you slowly put your clothes back on.

"I gave you what you wanted," you corrected, a small smile playing on your lips. Standing up slowly. You took a step toward him, and he instinctively took a step back, hitting the wall. "You wanted it just as much as I did. You just didn't have the guts to admit it until I forced your hand."

"This is a nightmare," he groaned, turning away again. "Your father... he's going to kill me. He's going to kill me, and then he's going to kill you. Do you understand that?"

"He doesn't have to know," you said. You reached out, tracing a finger down the spine of the man who had just fucked your brains out, feeling the tremors running through his body. "Nothing has to change."

Rafe spun around, yanking your hand away, his eyes with a mix of anger and desperation. "Nothing has to change? Are you insane? Everything has changed! I just.. I just fucked my best friend's daughter." He laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "This isn’t happening again."

"Whatever you say." you replied, your voice flat, as you stepped into his personal space again, forcing him to look at you. Rafe stared at you, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked violently in his cheek. He looked like he wanted to shake you, to scream at you, to never look at you again. But he didn't move. He couldn't. He was trapped by the reality of what had just happened. By the fact that he had enjoyed it, that he had come inside you.

"What, you think I'm not serious?" he snapped, voice full. "Not by a long shot." you responded. His eyes widened in horror as the implication hit him. "What are you talking about? This never happened." he demanded, his voice cold, final. As Rafe turned to leave, he heard you, “See you at the barbeque next weekend.” you remarked, smiling. Rafe froze, his hand on the doorknob. He didn't turn around. He didn't answer. He just stood there, his shoulders stiff, before he yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind him, leaving you alone in the room.

pr3ttypriscilla

frostbite

description: your dads bsf, rafe, and you stay back from family skiing, and when you two find each other alone together, things happen.

includes: dads bsf, age gap, unprotected sex, p in v, semi public

wc: 2,166

now playing - west coast by lana del rey (instrumental)

The winter air was crisp, biting against your exposed skin as you slipped into the steaming water of the hot tub. The cabin's luxury features were on full display here, with the massive tub set against a floor to ceiling window wall that overlooked the snow covered mountains. "Careful, don't slip." Rafe's voice said from behind you.

You turned to find him already in the hot tub, water glistening, small water droplets dripping from his shoulders. At 42, he was still so hot, younger girls always practically throwing themselves onto him at the country club. Sure he’d mess with a couple of them, but nothing too serious. "I'm okay." you managed, though your heart was doing tiny stutters in your chest.

The rest of your families had already left for the slopes, your parents, Rafe's ex wife, your younger sister, and Rafe's son. They'd all been excited about the fresh powder, but you'd claimed a headache, and surprisingly, Rafe had stayed back too, claiming he had some business to handle.

"Nice view." he said, gesturing toward the window where snowflakes were beginning to drift down again. "It's beautiful here." you replied, settling into the bubbling water opposite him. He looked at you smiling slightly, fingers swashing around in the water. You felt nervous under his gaze, you always had. Wearing a tiny bikini in front of him. He intimidated you in a way.

Rafe was leaned back against the edge of the hot tub, one arm resting on the wood as he watched the snow gather on the pine branches outside. "So..." he said, "Headache?" "Maybe a tiny one." you smiled sheepishly. "Mm-hmm." he replied. "What?" you bit your lip, suppressing a smile. “Nothing.” He shook his head. "Oh?" you laughed. You splashed a little water in his direction, with it splashing against his chest. "I just didn't feel like falling down a mountain today."

"That's a much more believable answer." he smirked. When you were ten Rafe had taught you how to ski, he had you redo it, and redo it, and redo it until it began to become fun. But every year back here, no muscle memory kicked in and you had to relearn over and over again. "And your 'business'?" you responded. He rubbed the back of his neck with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m just tired, I wanted some peace.”

“I thought you liked to win? You always do when we race.” you teased. “I do like to win,” he exhaled, “Just needed some time away from James and Liz, their a handful.” You lightly splashed him with water, “Hey, I like Liz.” You laughed. “She’s a bitch.” He turned, grabbing his glass of whiskey, taking a sip. “She’s really not.” you stated, rolling your eyes.

He stared at you for a beat, a long silence stretching. You only looked back at him, gaze unwavering. He softly smiled “Yeah, well not to you.” he whispered, as he placed the glass down. A slow smile spread on your face as you splashed him again, “Jesus, light up.” you smirked. “Shut up.” he smiled, splashing you back lightly.

You took this as the opportunity to splash him ten times harder, soaking his face in water. He shook his head, a small smirk forming. “I–I really didn't mean to do it that hard.” you bit down on your lip, suppressing a smirk. He turned towards you, smiling “That why you're laughing now?” he said softly. “No.” you laughed. Before you could even react he splashed you with water, wetting your hair.

“Rafe!” you yelled, pushing the water out of your face. “Yes?” he smiled looking up at you as you stood. You splashed water onto him, as he did the same towards you, standing up. He was taller than you, way taller than you. You felt small compared to him, with your smile slowly dying. You pushed at his chest, with him falling back down into the place he was originally sitting.

His hand found yours underwater, fingers lacing together. In one swift motion, he pulled you towards him, onto his lap. You laughed, trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. As both your thighs bracketed his, your chest pushed to his. You looked into his eyes. As his hand found your waist, pulling you closer. You paused, looking into his eyes, your breath hitching. "Rafe," you whispered, unsure. With it coming out softer than you meant it to.

His eyes searched yours, looking for hesitation, maybe. Permission, something. His hand came up to cup the back of your neck, fingertips threading into your wet hair. He closed the distance, his lips pressing against yours, hard, slow. You melted into him, fingers gripping his shoulders as his other hand settled on your hip beneath the water. He kissed you slow and deep, and you forgot about the cold outside, forgot about your families on the mountain, forgot about everything except the feeling of his mouth and the way his thumb traced small circles against your skin.

When you finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, his breath was uneven against your lips. "Been wanting to do that for a while," he admitted. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it. "How long is a while?" The corner of his mouth curved up. "Longer than I should probably admit."

The unspoken tension that had been simmering between you for years was now boiling to the surface. All those times you'd caught him looking at you a little too long, all those moments when your hands had "accidentally" brushed while passing dishes at family gatherings, it all led to this. Your breath hitched as his thumb stroked the back of your hand. The water suddenly felt too hot, the steam too thick.

You leaned in, kissing him again, hard, while rolling your hips into him. He pinned your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin there. As you moved your hands from his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck. Biting his lip a bit. One of his hands slid up to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple through the thin fabric of your bikini top until it pebbled beneath his touch. You moaned into his mouth, arching against him as the water sloshed around you.

"Turn around," he commanded against your lips, his voice rough with need. You complied, facing the massive window wall. The reflection showed your flushed face and heaving chest, with Rafe behind you, his muscular shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. "Watch," he ordered in your ear as his hands gripped your hips. His words sending a shiver through you.

You watched in the reflection as one of his hands moved between your legs, his fingers moving your bikini to the side. Your eyes were glued onto your reflection as you looked at his fingers parting your folds and rubbing your clit. "So wet already," he murmured, circling the sensitive nub. "All this for me?" he smirked. You could only nod, your breath coming in heavy pants as he continued to stroke you.

Without warning he slid two fingers inside, slowly pumping in and out. You threw your head back, whining. His fingers curling, hitting that addicting spot over and over again. He continued that motion for a while with his right hand, his left pinching and rolling your nipple. Just when you were on the edge, he pulled his hand away. "Not yet," he said, a teasing note in his voice. "I want you to come on my cock."

You heard the sound of wet fabric as he pushed his swim trunks down. Then you felt him, big and hard, pressing against your entrance. "Good?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question. Your eyes were closed, brows furrowed together, head thrown back, shaking yes over and over again. Before you could react, he thrust into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. A cry escaped your lips at the sudden stretch, a mixture of pleasure and pain as he stretched you more than you'd ever been before.

"Fuck," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "You're so tight." He gave you a moment to adjust before he began to move, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and force. The water splashed around you with each thrust, creating a rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest. He dropped his hand down to your hip, with a bruising grip.

The combination was too much, the feel of him inside you, the pressure on your clit, the steam and heat of the hot tub. You felt a coiling tension in your core that threatened to snap. Your eyes were squeezed shut, whimpers and loud whines escaping your throat, as he thrusted in and out.

"Look at me," he said, his voice low, raw. His hand releasing your hip, catching your throat, squeezing softly. You lifted your head, your eyes meeting his. His pupils were blown wide, black holes swallowing the iris. "You have no idea," he muttered, his other hand lifting up from your clit to tangle in your wet hair, yanking your head back to expose more of your throat.

He buried his face in the curve of your neck, biting down hard enough to make you cry out, the sound echoing off the glass walls. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this.” You gasped, arching into him, your hands gripping the edge of the hot tub, panting. Your walls clenched around him, swallowing him. "Fuck," he groaned, his head falling forward, water dripping from his hair onto your back. "You feel... god, you're so tight. So perfect."

He grabbed your chin, leaning forward, with his mouth crashing onto yours, kissing you upside down. He bit your lip, slowly sucking it, until he pulled back. The glass walls of the enclosure were now fogged up with steam, but near the top, where the heat didn't reach, the glass remained clear. And because the windows went all the way up, acting as a mirror you could see everything.

Your eyes locked onto the reflection. In the glass, you saw him driving into you, again, again, again, and again. Hitting places you didn’t even know were possible. You watched as his hands gripped your waist, leaving white marks on your skin, as he pounded into you roughly. You watched as he claimed you, his face contorted with pleasure. You couldn't look away. The visual of it, of him taking you, of the sheer size difference, and of the fact he was your dads best friend, the reality of him being 23 years older than you.

"You like that?" he whispered against your ear, his breath hot, his pace increasing, becoming erratic and desperate. "You like watching yourself get taken by your father's best friend? Watching me ruin you?" "Yes," you sobbed, tears mixing with the steam on your face. "Yes, Rafe, please…” Your head leaned back on his chest again, back arching. “Please–don't stop..." you whimpered.

He slammed into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the space, louder than the storm outside. Your senses were overwhelmed, you could only moan in response, too overstimulated by the sensations to form coherent words. You were lost as you watched him, the way your head bounced back against the glass before he caught you, holding you in place so he could continue his pleasure.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice strained with his own nearing release. "Come all over my cock like the good girl I know you are." His words pushed you over the edge. Your thighs shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you, more intense than anything you'd ever experienced. You cried out his name as your inner walls clenched around him, milking his length. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chased his own release. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his hot cum.

For a moment, you both stayed still, breathing heavily as the water continued to bubble around you. Then he slowly pulled out, with you falling in front of the hot tub, hands gripping the edge, catching yourself from falling. You both were panting heavily, the post orgasm haze beginning to clear, replaced by the reality of what you'd just done. You'd crossed a line that could never be taken back.

You felt his hand on your lower back, as you looked over your shoulder, looking up to him. Rafe's expression was unreadable as he looked at you, his fingers gently tracing your back. "This isn't the last time." he stated, as he pulled you to him, turning you around. He leaned in to kiss you again, his hands holding your waist softly, then pulled back. He gave you one look up and down before whispering, “Go get cleaned up. They’ll be back soon.”

incorrectara

Good Boy | John Logan

Summary: john is insecure, don't know what for/ you show john just how sexy he is.

Pairing: sub!logan x y/n!reader

Warnings: MDNI, unprotected sex, lots and lots of dirty talk, fuck buddies in love (maybe) but SUB LOGAN

Word Count: 2.8k

💌: thoughts were thunk. i will not be elaborating further.

John was quiet, unusually quiet, surrounded by all his friends, all cramped into a booth at Malone's.

Normally, he would have some smart ass comment ready, a crooked grin that made everyone roll their eyes before laughing anyway, or an annoying abbreviation that no one would understand.

But tonight? He barely spoke, you counted him saying a total of 5 sentences all night, and for a man who never shuts up, that is highly alarming.

You noticed it the second Garrett made another joke about Dean getting attention from half the girls at the bar. Then Hannah laughed about how Birdie had somehow become ‘mysteriously hot’ according to campus sources.

And then, Tucker teased Logan, it was harmless, all in good fun but you saw the shift in his tone, his jaw set in a tight clench.

‘C'mon, Loge, you're slipping man, it used to be you who couldn't walk ten feet without someone asking for your number’

Logan forced a laugh, you could see his fake smile appearing almost flawlessly in front of his friends, ‘Guess I've lost my touch, Tuck’

Everyone laughed and moved on, it was a joke which passed.

You didn't.

The apartment was dark when you got home after work. All the lights were off, which felt odd considering that Logan left an hour before your shift. He should've been here, you had sent him a text.

‘John?’ no reply.

Five minutes later, you found him, sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knee, all the lights switched off.

He didn't even turn the lamp on. He was dressed down from his hockey gear, all showered, sitting in your robe.

‘You're hiding’, he took a deep breath as his shoulders rose and fell in a tired sigh.

‘I'm not hiding’

‘No?’ ‘No’

You leaned against the doorframe, clearly unconvinced, ‘So you just like sitting in total darkness at 9pm with your head down in your hands?’

Silence. Only his soft breaths audible, as if he was trying to control his breathing.

You didn't say anything, you didn't pressure him to speak, you knew he would come around on his own, in his own time.

Eventually, he spoke so quietly that you almost missed it, ‘Do you ever wish I looked different?’

‘What?’ your expression softened as he kept looking down at his hands, not being able to match your gaze.

‘I mean’ he rubbed the back of his neck, oh poor baby he was so nervous, ‘Dean is, well Dean’

‘And?’

‘And Birdie now has this new music angle to him, which props to him is actually so good’

‘Mhm’ you walked closer.

‘Garrett's built like a tank and he's just y’know’

‘I don't’ he chose to ignore your comment

‘And Tucker’ he continued shrugging, ‘Hell, Tucker could flirt with a brick wall’

He laughed, no humor in his voice, again a fake laugh. You just looked at him, staring with concern.

‘I don't know,’ he shook his head violently.

‘You do know’ He closed his eyes, you knew him so well.

‘I just’, his voice caught, ‘I don't feel like I have an angle y'know? Nothing that makes me stand out?’

The confession/question seemed to get serious as you saw his shoulders get rigidly hard, the closed off posture familiar to you, over years of knowing him and being fuck buddies for the past nine months.

‘When we're all together’, he shook his head as if that would make it better, ‘I look at them, and then I look at me’

Finally, he looked up, meeting your eyes. He looked so distraught and doe-eyed your knees wanted to buckle on the spot, your baby, look at him being so small.

‘I don't understand why you picked me’, the room instantly felt completely still, your heart lurched at the thought of him feeling that way, not waiting any longer, you crossed the distance between you without saying a word.

John instinctively straightened as you stopped in front of him, looking up at your all doe eyed and so so dumb, it made you want to edge him for hours as he begged you to let him cum, fond memories playing in the back of your mind.

As you met his gaze, he immediately looked somewhere else, always trying to hide from you.

‘Eyes on me, baby’ his gaze lifted immediately, you could see that he trusted you, complete, unquestioning trust.

‘Why would you want me over them? They're all so much hotter than me’ now, this got you. All that was playing in your head was the sad music with the guy shouting ‘my shayla’.

‘John Logan, baby, don't tell me, you don't think I find you sexy?’

‘I mean, uh-’ he struggled to answer.

‘Johnny, you've got to be kidding me. You are the sexiest man I've ever met, the sexiest man I've ever seen,’ you tell him, turning your body towards him, sitting down towards him as your face gets closer to his, and grazing your fingertips lightly up and down the spine.

‘y/n, just because you're fucking me doesn't mean you have to talk me up’ He tells you, and you can see embarrassment and self-consciousness rear its ugly head inside him.

You stared at him for a long moment before saying slowly, ‘It means just that, baby. You told me that you're comfortable around me because I always let you know how I feel, so how about this, you laying in my bed like this, in my robe, all naked and all for me is driving me fucking feral. I came home with no panties on because I knew you would be here waiting for me. You're the only man ever to give me five orgasms in one night’

Your hand had drifted down the robe, slowly inching towards his cock, its outline starting to show underneath the robe as he took your words in. You put your hand over his increasing erection, over the robe, rubbing lightly, watching his face do that thing that you love.

You smirked at him, ‘I come home with no panties and it took me only two minutes to give you a hard on like this and then you think that I don't find you sexy? I'm offended baby’

‘hey’ he says warningly.

You bite your lip, moving swiftly. You climb on top of him, straddling his legs. You can see the excitement in his eyes, but you also notice how softly he looks at you. How your words are truly affecting him.

‘God Johnny, you have no idea how crazy you drive me’ you say, dipping your head so you can nuzzle your nose against his neck. He lets out a long breath, ‘Soft skin just begging to be touched’ as you nip and suck a dark spot in a place that only belongs to you. Your eyes flashed to him, ‘Your cock is the only one that makes my mouth water, and practically drool over you. And Fuck baby, when you're so focused on your workout, you don't even realize all of the compromising positions you're doing in front of me. Such a tease, John’ you tut, still not fully sitting down on his lap, his cock springing up to brush against you through the robe.

‘Fuck’ He breathes out as your tongue flattens and licks up the edge of his ear, slowly biting as you grip his shoulders in a way that gets him tense, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

The tiniest whine escapes him as he opens his neck up to your lips, and you almost want to shove his cock inside you immediately, wanting to feel him grow inside you, but you hold back, you're on a mission today.

You sit up straight and look down at him, chest rising and lowering fast, lips parted as he stares back up at you, your hands squeezing his shoulders as your legs tighten around his waist, making you squirm as his hands fly down to grip unto your legs, wanting you to sit on his ragingly hard cock still covered by that damn awful robe.

Your fingertips ghost over his cloth covered chest, wanting to get it off and see him in his full glory, rock hard for you and those rock hard abs which are right there for you to touch. Your hands enter inside his robe as you feel the ridges and crevices of his muscular chest, his abs which are moving due to his heavy breathing, ‘You've got every asset, baby. Not only is your back delectable, but these abs, holy fuck’, you groan, nails scratching all over. A small huff leaves his lips, making you crack a smile.

‘Baby stop teasing me’

‘Yeah? Then what does my good boy want me to do?’

His hands still gripping your thighs as if he'll fall without their support, he tries to push you down to sit on him properly, to get a hint of relief.

You lower yourself on his robe, feeling the familiar structure of his cock, clothes yet so good. Just the feeling of your damp, pantyless cunt on him is enough for him to let out a loud whimper, ‘fuck princess’

‘Fucking hell, look at you baby, so pretty and so sensitive my pretty boy, always moaning and whimpering for me. It really aids my ego’ as you grind on him a little, before pushing him down on the mattress, ‘Hell, I'm just talking to you and you're rock hard under me baby, can practically feel every vein here.’

You start to open his robe from his upper body, still sitting directly on top of his hard erection, as you get a view of his chest and abs, immediately kissing and licking him alI over, sucking and biting his pretty chest, leaving hickeys all over him.

He audibly whines as you get off him, moving down to the main event.

But you don't stop with your tongue and lips until he's bucking up towards your face as you keep going lower. You graze your lips up his abs, as you remove his robe completely, his hard-on bucking up, freed from restraints. You look at him as if you're going to devour him whole, taking in all of him in his glory, breathing shallow, chest covered with hickeys given by you, cock hard as a rock, the veins all angry and red, his face so pretty and all fucked out, pinkish hue, wet hair UGH.

‘Look at you baby, fuck looking at you makes me wanna do unimaginable things with you. How can you think that you're not sexy, baby, look at you, I really want to take a picture of you like this. It's making me gush down my thighs’

Logan feels like this is a fever dream, such pornographic words falling out of your mouth, usually he's the one worshipping you like the goddess you are but today you've got him in a chokehold.

He feels himself get ever harder at your words, if that is even possible.

He watches you take him in your hands as you start to jerk him off, teasing his top with your mouth, as he bucks his hips up out of instinct, ‘fuck baby, please-'

‘Please what?’

‘Please suck me off baby,’ he whines, ‘i need your mouth’

‘But only good boys get what they want. Have you been a good boy baby?’ you keep rubbing him all the right ways as he withers under your touch,

‘I've been such a good boy baby, please’

‘Gold boys don't doubt themselves baby’

‘please- please, baby, fuck I'm dying here’, hearing his desperate please and looking at his hips bucking wildly, you can feel yourself drip down your thighs.

‘Fuck’ you breathe out, your patience wearing thin, you trace your tongue up his length, ‘Can feel you so hard baby, how can you possibly think you're not sexy when you've got me like this? I want my mouth to be on every inch of you all the time. Couldn't even decide if I wanted to suck you off over and over until your begging me to stop or fuck you so hard till you're leaking out of me’

And you start to bob up and down, and all Logan can do is whine, moan and quiver under your touch as his hands grip your hair to keep them out of your way. He sees you looking up at him with your big brown eyes and it makes him buckle, he feels himself getting fuller and ready to blow.

As he feels himself getting closer, he tries to lift you back up and capture your lips with his, but you back away to tease him, ‘Hmm, I almost forgot your lips, baby’

He whines again, trying to catch your lips once more, as you grind on him, his cock rubbing up in all the right places but then you stop, ‘Don't be greedy Johnny. Don't you wanna hear how much I adore your lips?’

He nods her head mindlessly, muttering out a ‘Please’ as he tries to get you to move against him, hands gripping your hips, making you hornier looking at his desperation. Even in this state, he's listening to you so intently, taking in your affirmations so greedily.

‘Just look at them’ you practically slur as focusing on his lips, absentmindedly grinding on his cock ‘So full and red, meant to be wrapped around me. Maybe one day I'll take a picture of you eating me out, show you how they're truly meant to be.’ You stop grinding,

‘Show you proof that you're the sexiest’ you shuffle a bit as you guide his tip at your soaked entrance, ‘most delicious’ as you slowly push down into him, gasping a bit at how full you feel ‘most sought after man I've ever encountered’

Oh you're so fucked, as you move up and down on his cock, he moans your name repeatedly. You curse silently and roughly say, ‘No wonder so many girls are trying to fuck you. Bet they can just imagine how pretty your voice sounds as you moan their name’

You slam down harder, your hips moving at a pace that's unbearably good, causing him to buck his hips up into you, ‘But I'm the lucky girl that gets you, right? I'm the only name you're moaning out. I'm the only one you get hard for. Right, baby?’

He's so pussy drunk, only nodding his head, ‘Only you, baby, fuck’

You can't hold yourself back anymore, your lips crash into his and you share the dirtiest kiss you've ever experienced. You quicken your rhythm, as he bucks his hips into you at a pace controlled by you.

His lips feel so needy, never letting you leave him for too long. It's dizzying as you gasp for air, but delve your tongue into his mouth to caress. You're breathless and so close to cumming, your pulsating pussy squelching and dripping him in and out with such ease, but you're not done with him just yet.

He's a moaning mess under you, quivering, bucking and moaning your name, curses again and again as if it's some mantra, his head moving to the side, face scrunched up in pleasure. You know he's close as you quicken your pace saying, ‘You want to cum, baby?’

‘Yes’ he whines, ‘Please, please, I need it.’

‘Say it’

‘Please make me cu-’

‘No’ you interrupt him, ‘admit you're sexy. That you're every woman's wet dream’

You can see him trying to resist, the sliver of her consciousness holding him back.

You whisper into his ear, ‘So stubborn. You want to cum, yeah? Maybe I'll just get off and leave you hot and wet and-’

‘No, no, no, need to cum, baby’

‘You know what I want to hear. Gotta know you believe me when I say it’ you nip at his jaw, keeping you both edging even though your bodies are practically vibrating with need.

‘I'm sexy. I'm sexy’ he breathes out.

‘And?’ you taunt.

‘I'm every woman's fuck, every woman's wet dream’ he groans.

‘Yes, you are, my good boy’ you coo in his ear, and within seconds you're both drowning in your orgasms, faces just inches away from each other the whole time. As he shutter against you, cock burning and pulsing inside you as you collapse on top of him and breathing into his neck.

He's muttering praises and thank you's to you in his dazed state. It's the smallest peck against your neck and when you look down at him he's smiling up at you looking so fucked, face still flushed, and whispers, ‘Thank you, baby’

we out

sc3ptre

I absolutely loved your last Dean story!! I was wondering if you would be able to write about a reader who has never been able to finish, with herself or anyone else, and dean helps her learn.

Beautiful writing!

I would've done that sober

Pairing: Dean Di Laurentis x childhood best friend!reader

⟡ Main Index | ⟡ Archive for Earth-66

a/n: Well that was long, but such a delight to write and soooo so sexy

Classification: Smut +18 | Talks of ex's and sexual dysfunction/insecurity, emotional vulnerability, recreational drug use (NOT DURING SEX), dry humping/grinding, getting caught, fingering, tension and arousal descriptions, orgasm, praise and partial undressing/lingerie.

Word count: 12k

Divider by me ;)

spankyourlocalbrat

hii honey, i love your writing! i was wanting to ask if you could do a storyline where rafe meets a homeschooled isolated kook princess who is a huge prude (like freaks out at having to say the word sex, lol.), and maybe rafe has a corruption kink, basically where he corrupts reader into a sex obsessed girl, maybe even introducing her into drugs. something toxic!

thank you!! much love xoxo

⎯⎯⎯⎯ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ✦

pov. the christian good girl gets wrapped up in somethin’ that’s nothing but bad news

content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, corruption kink, religion mentioning, toxic!rafe, innocent!reader, toxic household, no proof read, dramatic description of christian home, virgin!christian!reader, heavy drug usage, rafe snorts/licks coke off of reader, drug abuse

growing up, you were restricted from electronics, taught that sex was something involved with the devil, and that if you were ever to see something sexual, you must pray for the lord to forgive you. so when you were finally allowed to go to public middle school, any chance boys got to look at you, you’d assume they were sinners and judge them intensely, telling your parents, which caused them to tell their parents—even if they were staring at your face because you had food on it.

most of the time, they had absolutely no idea of your existence when you told on them, which caused you to be extremely hated by boys growing up. but who could blame you? you were only just now experiencing people outside of your household.

but that didn’t last long. you were only two months into public schooling before you got taken out. there was never really a reason given, but it had something to do with the school not being christian enough.

your standards were constantly high, always for your lord and savior.

when you finally reached eighteen, you got a cellphone. it wasn’t anything special, it was a flip phone, the kind of phone that made you embarrassed to even pull it out in public, so you’d leave it at home or bury it deep in your purse so nobody could accidentally see it.

to say that you were just insecure would be an understatement. you were a walking joke to yourself.

your self esteem was wrecked. your faith made you disgusted with yourself; showing a little bit of your body made you feel slutty, and in your parents’ eyes, gave them full permission to make fun of you. most likely until you cried, which was always how it worked.

you spoke soft and proper, like the older movies in the 60’s, only because that was the only source of personality you were allowed to have. if you came back to the house having picked up a different saying, it’d be called devilish, and you wouldn’t be allowed out of your room until you forced your brain not to ever let it slip out of your mouth again.

the first time you ever got a friend, you were excited. you called her on your flip phone constantly, but one of your parents always had to be present to keep the conversation godly. which you agreed to, or accepted.

life was amazing. you finally got to talk to someone who wasn’t a person trapped inside your square boxed television in the living room.

her laugh was memorized in your brain, and you never wanted to let it go. in fact, sometimes it made you cry when you were alone because you adored the woman so much.

but the honeymoon phase of your friendship ended when you were on the phone with her and one of her friends slipped up and admitted that she had been talking badly about you. saying all the trashiest things about you, all the things you’d heard from your parents before.

slut. whore. hoe bag. skank. ugly. bitchy. fat.

the phone call went silent, and you hung up instantly, hugging your mother, who was sitting on the edge of your bed reading the bible. you explained what happened, and instead of comforting you, she scolded you.

“that’s what you get when you make friends with sinners! i told you, her shorts were whore-ish. how could you be so stupid?”

ever since that day, you never interacted with women again to be friends with them. it wasn’t like you didn’t crave friendship like interaction with them, or an opportunity to help them out, but you were terrified of being treated like that again.

you were taught that under god, everyone was your friend and everyone should treat each other as such.

but when you came across this man named rafe, there was no way you could even attempt to be friends with him. you smiled hard naturally when talking to him, cheeks all pink.

you’d never been flirty before, never even attempted to be promiscuous, so when you watched the other pretty blondes flirt, you were upset. not because of how pretty they were, which they absolutely were, but because you’d been so late to the trends of being a woman.

you were eighteen and still wearing church approved length skirts, long sleeved office mom shirts, hair down because if it was up it’d be considered too slutty and sinning.

so over time, you’ve adapted the game that you’ve seen work on men; eyes flickering down at his lips then back up at his eyes, a cute yet dangerous smile, tension, the tone of your voice, pulling him gently toward you, your lips parted like they were begging for a kiss from him.

what you got from the men when they reacted was their interest. they liked the chase, the thrill, the excitement that came with a good flirt. an inviting, consenting woman seemed to draw their attention, leaving room for their imagination to run wild. the women always seemed to be in charge; just a simple shake of their head or a judgmental once over was more than enough of a hint for the men.

in a way, sex felt empowering to you. that’s how the college girls would describe it in public whenever you’d walk past them. it gave you control, it gave you access to the guy, money sometimes, even love.

eventually, you took a deep breath, let all your anxiety escape through your nostrils, and talked to the two girls—not at church, but at the grocery store while your mother wasn’t hounding you like you were still six years old.

they were in the chip aisle, looking for fat free chips for one of their diets.

you side eyed them and gulped, searching around the checkout lane for a reason to walk up to them, then it came to you, lip gloss! you grabbed a tube of lip gloss and walked over, purposefully dropping it onto the floor with a small gasp.

“oh my! is this yours?” you asked, looking down at the lip gloss beside the girl’s heels. she turned, her brows furrowing. “oh, uh… i don’t think so?” she answered nervously. you stared, completely stunned that she had even replied to you. “oh—um… uh, i’m…” you stuttered, swallowing.

“i’m raegan,” she explained, bending down to pick up the lip gloss. “and this is from the checkout lane, silly. if you wanted a reason to talk to us, you should’ve just come up to us!” raegan, the blonde smiled, her voice incredibly girly, reminding you of the early 2000s, almost like paris hilton.

your breath hitched before you laughed softly, completely embarrassed. “gee, i’m sorry,” you started, holding onto your own arm. “i just thought you were really cool, and i’ve never really had cool girlfriends, so…”

you paused, realizing you were oversharing, your eyes flickering between the two girls. “we can tell,” the other girl said, glancing down at your skirt. you frowned and nodded. “yeah… my mom forced me to wear this.” your lips pressed into a flat line. the girl’s jaw dropped. “oh my god, no way.” she scoffed.

“what a jerk of a mom.” the blonde said, she lightly pinched the fabric of your skirt, moving it between her fingers before looking back at you. “listen, there’s a party this weekend. be there. we’ll pick you up and everything.”

the blonde held your gaze as though she was making you promise the most important thing in the world. “oh gee, i don’t know! i don’t have anything to wear,” you admitted with a frown.

“ugh, girl, nonsense,” the other girl chimed in. “i’ll buy you something. what’s your phone number?” you gulped. “i have a flip phone,” you admitted. “y2k. so 2000s,” the blonde laughed with a grin. “…and my mom is always monitoring me,” you continued, your frown only deepening.

the girls exchanged thoughtful looks. “how about this,” the blonde suggested. “you give me your address. i’ll pick you up this saturday at twelve, you can change at the gas station next to the party, and i’ll have you home by three in the morning. sound good?” she asked.

a smile spread across your face as you nodded eagerly. “yes! oh, how wonderful!” you respond. the girls stared at you. “are you, like… a disney princess?” the other girl asked. the blonde chewed her gum a little more aggressively as she looked you over, something almost judgmental lingering in her expression. after a couple seconds, she cleared her throat.

“we’ll teach you, ’kay?”

you nodded. you ended up giving them your address, and you went home excited. you didn’t show it, but you were beyond happy.

it was finally time to experience what being a normal person felt like; boys, people experimenting with drugs and alcohol, parties, and a world you’d only ever watched from a distance.

“oh boy… are you sure this fits me?” you asked, nervously tugging at the hem of the dress as it rode higher against your thighs, feeling as though it was determined to expose you. “yes, it does! that’s hot. keep it on!” raegan replied without hesitation, looking you up and down inside the cramped bathroom stall with an approving grin.

“cute,” the other girl added, shamelessly admiring your outfit. “if i ever turn gay, i’d like to be your secret girlfriend. since you’re christian and stuff.” raegan teased. “thank you?” you replied cautiously, your brows knitting together as you tried to figure out whether she was joking or being sincere.

both girls burst into laughter.

“god, she’s adorable,” raegan giggled, reaching over to smooth a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “you’re gonna survive tonight. just… don’t say anything too churchy.” she comments and you nodded earnestly.

“i’ll try.” you smile. “don’t try,” the other girl laughed. “just copy what everyone else does.” the other girl said. the words settled somewhere deep inside your chest, copy what everyone else does. that was something you knew how to do.

raegan pushed open the bathroom door, and the bass from the party immediately swallowed the room. music rattled through the walls hard enough to make your ribs vibrate, conversations overlapping with laughter, shouting, and the occasional cheer from somewhere deeper inside the house.

the smell hit you next, perfume, beer, sweet smoke you couldn’t quite identify. it was nothing like church, nothing like home.

people stood shoulder to shoulder throughout the house, cups balanced in their hands as they drifted from room to room without a care in the world. girls laughed loudly without covering their mouths. boys wrapped lazy arms around their friends’ shoulders. everyone looked comfortable, everyone looked like they belonged.

you hesitated in the hallway. your fingers instinctively reached for the bottom of your dress again, trying to pull it lower, raegan caught your wrist before you could. “stop doing that,” she said gently, lowering your hand. “you look good.” she reassures and you swallowed. “i feel… exposed.” you comment.

“that’s because you’re not used to dressing for yourself yet.” she smiled, before you could ask what that meant, the girls guided you farther into the house. your eyes wandered everywhere; the kitchen, the living room, the people dancing without caring who was watching.

it felt like stepping into a movie you’d only ever been allowed to watch with someone covering your eyes during certain scenes.

then your attention landed on him.

he was leaning against the kitchen counter with effortless confidence, one hand wrapped loosely around a red cup while he talked to a group of people around him. every few seconds someone laughed at something he’d said.

he barely seemed to be trying, it was like he didn’t have to. your gaze lingered longer than it should have. “who’s that?” you asked quietly, careful not to stare too obviously.

raegan followed your eyes before letting out a small laugh. “him? that’s rafe.” she answered, your lips parted a bit. “he’s…” you start, while you searched for the right word. “very handsome.” the other girl finished while raegan smirked. “yeah. everyone thinks that.” raegen laughed, your stomach fluttered in a way you didn’t recognize.

you watched as another girl walked past him, brushing his arm while saying something that made him grin. she looked so… natural, like she’d done it a thousand times.

“…how does she do that?” you asked softly and raegan looked at you. “do what?” she questioned. “flirt.” you say simply, the word came out almost like a confession. you looked back toward rafe. “i don’t… know how.” you admitted.

raegan’s expression softened. “seriously?”

you nodded. “i’ve never really…” your voice trailed off as heat climbed into your cheeks. “i was always taught not to look at boys too long. i don’t know what’s supposed to happen.” you laugh. raegan smiled sympathetically before looping her arm through yours.

“okay,” she said. “first lesson.” she starts. she nodded toward rafe without taking her eyes off you. “flirting isn’t about having some perfect line. half the time it’s just confidence. you smile, you keep the conversation going, and you don’t panic every time he looks at you.” she explains.

your brows knit together. “…that sounds difficult.” you reply. “it is at first,” raegan admitted with a laugh. “but you’ll be surprised how far a little confidence gets you.” her brows lift up as she smiled. you glanced back toward rafe again. “…and if i don’t have confidence?” you ask.

raegan smiled knowingly. “then fake it until you do.” she said, winking. so that you did!

you weren’t entirely sure how your legs managed to carry you across the room. maybe it was the music, maybe it was raegan’s encouragement, or maybe it was the fact that if you thought about it any longer, you’d lose every ounce of courage you had managed to scrape together.

behind you, raegan mouthed, you got this.

you nodded once, then immediately forgot every single thing she’d just taught you. rafe noticed you before you reached him.

he’d seen you walk in nearly five minutes ago, awkwardly trailing behind the two girls like you’d accidentally wandered into the wrong house. while everyone else blended into the party, you stood out without even trying, not because you were loud, but because you weren’t.

you looked… untouched.

like someone had taken a girl straight out of sunday morning and dropped her into a friday night house party. it definitely caught his attention, and now you were walking straight toward him.

he lifted an eyebrow, taking another sip from his cup before setting it on the counter.

“hey.” he started, his voice was casual and so easy. it made your rehearsed greeting disappear instantly. your mind emptied….completely.

you stared at him and he stared back.

your throat became dry, a lump created as you started to sweat.

“…hi,” you finally managed. “…hi,” he repeated, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

then silence….complete awkward silence. you’d had an entire conversation planned, you were going to compliment his shirt, or maybe ask how he knew the girls…or introduce yourself for christ sake.

instead you gave him nothing. every word had packed its bags and abandoned you.

you looked over your shoulder for raegan.

she dramatically motioned for you to say something, your stomach twisted as you looked back at him. “…i forgot.” you said. rafe let out a short laugh through his nose. “forgot what?” he asked. “…everything.” you reply, brows furrowed in embarrassment. you answered so honestly that it almost made him laugh again.

his head tilted slightly.

“you came over here without a plan?” he asked, his eyes watching your face as if you were a puppy and had just got kicked. “i had one..” you mentioned, while you frowned at yourself. “it’s… gone.” you add. he watched you for another second.

girls usually walked over already knowing exactly what they wanted from him. they’d lean against the counter, laugh a little too hard, touch his arm, play some version of the same game.

you? you looked like you wanted permission to breathe. it was strangely refreshing to him. there was something amusing about watching someone so obviously inexperienced trying to step into a world they clearly didn’t belong in yet.

he shouldn’t have found it interesting, but he did… and sort of hot. “what’s your name?” he asked, and you visibly relaxed.

finally! a question you could easily tell him.

you told him your name, your shoulders loosening just enough that you remembered to breathe. “i’m rafe.” he added after you, and you nodded enthusiastically. “i know.” you say, which that earned another smile from him. “course you do.” he said, his eyes not lifting from yours. your cheeks warmed.

“my friend told me.” you said, smiling. “which one?” he asked. “raegan.” you answered. he glanced toward the kitchen doorway where raegan was pretending not to watch. “…she send you over here?” he teased with his soft smile, and you hesitated.

“…sort of.” you answer and he laughed shortly. “sort of?” he echoes. “she said…” you looked down at your shoes before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. “…she said i should learn how to flirt.” you detailed. rafe blinked, then laughed, not at you, but because of how absurdly sincere you sounded.

“did she?” you nodded. “i’ve never done it before.” you replied, there wasn’t an ounce of irony in your voice, no attempt to sound mysterious. you were simply telling him the truth. he liked it.

he leaned one shoulder against the counter, studying you a little more carefully now. “so this…” he started, he gestured loosely between the two of you. “…this is your first attempt?” he asked. “yes.”

“…how am i doing?” you questioned, the question was so painfully genuine that he had to bite back another grin. “honestly?” he asked, and you nodded. “pretty terrible.” he told you and your face immediately fell.

“oh.”

he laughed again, shaking his head. “nah, don’t make that face.” he said. he stepped a little closer, close enough that you instinctively looked up at him. “you’re terrible at flirting.” he starts, then he paused. “but you’re real.”

his eyes lingered on yours for a second. “that’s kinda cute.” he assured and you blinked. “…it is?” you asked and he nodded. “yeah.” he replied, his grin widened. “don’t start pretending now.” he stated. you looked genuinely confused.

“pretending?” you question. “to be like everybody else.” he explained further, his gaze drifted around the room before settling back on you. “they’re all putting on a show.” he shrugged. “you don’t even know how.” he brings up, and your lips parted slightly.

“…is that… bad?” you ask, brows furrowing now. “nah.” he answered your question and his smile turned almost amused. “i think i’d rather see what happens when somebody teaches you.” he stated, something about the way he said it made your stomach flutter, though you couldn’t quite place why.

all you knew was that for the first time that night, you hadn’t embarrassed yourself enough to make someone walk away.

the rest of the night was great, and most importantly! your mother didn’t find out about the party. but since she didn’t find out, you hung out with him more, and it didn’t take much for you wanting to explore him sexually, and his bad choices.

rafe grinned wide, his frat house room dimly lit by a single lamp and the glow from his phone screen playing some trap beat low in the background. the once christian girl he’d met at that awkward party days ago was sprawled naked across his messy bed, her skin flushed and glowing, eyes half lidded and sparkling from the high.

“fuck, look at you,” he murmured, voice thick with that corruption kink that had been eating him alive since day one. she’d shown up to that party with no clue she’d be here doing this, she promised her parents she wouldn’t do this anyway, but one line, one bump, and now here she was, his perfect little project, giggling and arching under him like she’d been waiting for this her whole life.

he poured a fresh line along the curve of her spine, right between her shoulder blades. she shivered at the cool touch, letting out a soft breathy laugh. “feels so weird” she whispered, voice already slurred and happy from the coke buzzing through her veins.

he leaned down, nose brushing her warm skin, and sniffed the line hard, the rush hitting him instant. “that’s my girl,” he growled against her back, hands gripping her hips to hold her steady. “no more of that innocent shit, you can let go with me baby.” he assured.

she moaned softly as he licked the residue trailing down, his tongue hot and slow, tracing from her back over her shoulder and down to her throat. he licked a fresh path there too, another small bump dissolving under his mouth as he sucked lightly at her pulse point. she was squirming, high and loose, fingers twisting in his sheets while she laughed that bright, uninhibited laugh.

“rafe, oh my god,” she gasped, but it wasn’t prayerful anymore, it was pure blissed out fun. her body melted under him, thighs parting naturally as he moved lower.

he grinned against her stomach, drawing a lazy line right below her belly button. “god ain’t here, baby. just me.” he sniffed it off her smooth skin, then licked it all up, tongue dipping into her navel, tasting the mix of her and the bitter powder. she bucked a little, high giggles turning into breathy whimpers as the sensations hit her amplified.

down further he went, hands spreading her thighs wide. he laid another thin line along the inside of one thigh, close enough to her heat that she was trembling with anticipation. rafe looked up at her flushed face, eyes dark with satisfaction. “you were such a good little christian girl. now you’re naked in my bed doing lines with me, crazy ain’t it?”

she bit her lip, nodding hazily, the high making everything feel electric. “yeah, yeah. keep going, rafe.” you said. he snorted the line off her thigh, then licked long and thorough, tongue dragging up toward her center, teasing the sensitive skin until she was laughing and moaning at the same time, completely lost in the fun of it all. no guilt, no hesitation, just coke fueled pleasure and his hands and mouth owning every inch of her corrupted body.

they were both buzzing hard, naked and tangled, the night stretching out with more lines, more licks, more of her innocent walls crumbling while rafe reveled in every second of it.

then came the sex.

rafe had her pinned on her back in the middle of his bed, both of them still completely naked and sweating under the low lights. the coke was everywhere now, lines scattered across her tits, her stomach, the dip of her hips. she was giggling and moaning at the same time, eyes glassy and wild from how much they’d already done, her little christian walls long gone.

“fuck, you’re so wet for me,” rafe groaned as he thrust deep inside her, slow and hard, stretching her open while he leaned down and licked a thick line of coke right off the swell of her breast. his tongue dragged over her nipple, sucking the powder and her skin clean as he fucked her harder. she arched up into him with a broken cry, the rush hitting her even stronger while he was buried inside.

“rafe—oh! shit,” she gasped, high as hell and loving every filthy second. her hands clawed at his back, pulling him closer as another wave of pleasure mixed with the drugs. he smirked down at her, something dark burning in his eyes that she couldn’t quite grasp yet. “i’m ruining you, baby. look at you, getting fucked and doing coke like a little slut.” he scooped more powder onto his fingers and rubbed it along her collarbone before licking it off slowly, hips snapping forward in rhythm, pounding into her tight heat.

every thrust made her bounce, tits jiggling as he snorted another line straight off her sternum mid stroke. the bitter taste mixed with her sweat drove him crazier. he grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open, and kissed her deep, his tongue coated in fresh coke. she moaned into his mouth, sucking greedily on his tongue, licking every bit of the powder off while he fucked her senseless.

“that’s it, suck it off my tongue like a good girl,” he growled against her lips, feeding her more with every sloppy kiss. she was whimpering, high and desperate, legs wrapped tight around his waist as she licked and sucked, swallowing the mix of coke and spit while he railed into her.

rafe pulled back just enough to lay another line down her stomach, right above where he was sliding in and out of her. he licked it clean in one long stripe, never breaking his rhythm, tongue flicking over her skin as he drove deeper. she was shaking, another orgasm building fast from the insane mix of drugs and his cock.

“more,” she begged breathlessly, voice wrecked. “give me more, rafe.” she begged. he laughed low and dark, scooping another bump and letting it dissolve on his tongue before kissing her again.

she sucked hungrily, licking every grain off while he fucked her harder, the bed creaking, both of them lost in heavy, messy, coked out sex. lines on her thighs, lines on her neck, him licking it all off her body while he filled her up over and over, turning his innocent girl into his perfect corrupted fucktoy for the night.

they weren’t stopping anytime soon, but your parents didn’t know that. so when she wasn’t in her bed the next morning, her mother was ready on the phone with police. but that didn’t stop anything, you both were still going when morning came around.

rafe’s room was hazy with morning light filtering through the blinds, the clock showing past nine but neither of them cared. they’d been going for hours, round after round of filthy, coked out sex that blurred into one endless high. the bed was a disaster of sheets, empty baggies, and scattered powder. his once little christian girl was still under him, legs spread wide, pussy soaked and used as he thrust into her slow and deep for what felt like the tenth time.

“still can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you like this at sunrise,” he rasped, voice hoarse from the night, sweat dripping down his chest. he had her on her back again, one of her legs hooked over his shoulder as he ground into her, hitting that spot that made her eyes roll back. she was wrecked, hair messy, lips swollen, body covered in faint red marks from his mouth, but the coke kept them both buzzing, refusing to let the high crash.

he leaned down, licking a messy line of fresh powder off her tits while he fucked her, tongue swirling around her nipple as he snorted hard. “my perfect little slut,” he groaned against her skin, hips snapping forward harder. “you were praying last week. now you’re taking my cock all night like you were made for it.” he laughed.

she moaned loud, high and delirious, nails digging into his shoulders. “rafe… don’t stop. feels so fucking good,” she whimpered, voice raw from screaming through the rounds. her body trembled with another orgasm building, the mix of exhaustion and drugs making everything hypersensitive. he kissed her deep, feeding her coke straight off his tongue again, letting her suck and lick it greedily while he pounded her through it.

they’d already switched positions countless times, her riding him while he snorted lines off her stomach, him bending her over and licking it off her ass before sliding back in, her on her knees sucking him off with powder on his cock that she licked clean between rounds. now in the morning light it was raw and lazy but relentless, his thrusts deep and possessive as he chased another high with her.

“you’re mine now,” he muttered, licking another trail of coke down her throat and stomach while never stopping fucking her. “this is what you are. my coked up little fucktoy.” he stated.

she came again with a broken cry, clenching around him tight, but he just kept going, flipping her onto her side for another angle, spooning her close as he entered her from behind. more lines, more licking, more messy kisses where she sucked the powder off his tongue like she couldn’t get enough. the sun climbed higher but they were still lost in it, rounds blurring together, heavy drug haze keeping them fucking through the morning like animals who didn’t know how to quit.

“have you guys…” one of your friends wiggled her eyebrows dramatically. “…you know.” she added and your eyes widened. you looked around instinctively, making sure no strangers at the gas station were close enough to hear.

“yes.”

they both froze. “…seriously?” they asked and you nodded once. their mouths fell open. “that fast?” they questioned. “i…” you looked at your melting slushie. “…i love him.” you muttered. the laughter disappeared, the two girls exchanged a glance, a long one.

one that made the smile slowly leave your face. “…what?” you asked quietly. one sighed. “nothing.” they said, then swallowed. “don’t do that,” you replied. “that’s what my parents do.” you frown.

they exchanged another look, then finally, one of them spoke. “…i just don’t think rafe’s good for you.” the words hit harder than you expected, these two girls were with you since day one, since your first party, first shots, first alcohol experience. you frowned. “…why?”

“because he’s rafe.” the other explained, rolling her eyes softly. “…what does that mean?” you asked. she rubbed the back of her neck. “look… he’s charming. everybody knows that.”

“he’s also been with… a lot of girls,” the other added carefully. “like… a lot.” the other one chimed in. your stomach tightened. “people can change.”

“they can.” one started. “…but has he?” the other chimed in one again, then silence settled, you didn’t answer, because you didn’t know. one of the girls reached over, lightly squeezing your arm. “we’re not trying to be mean.”

“we actually like him more than we should,” the other admitted with a small laugh. “he’s funny. he’s attractive.” one explained. “…he’s really attractive,” the other muttered. they both laughed before growing serious again. “that’s kind of the problem.”

you looked between them, confused. “guys like him know they’re attractive.” they explained together. “they know exactly what to say.” one explained. “exactly how to make a girl feel special.” then the other said.

you frowned. “…he makes me feel special.” you admit. they both softened. “we know.” one of them sighed. “that’s why we’re worried.” one whispers and your brows pulled together.

some time later, rafe had you in his lap on the couch in his room that same hazy afternoon, the remnants of last night’s binge still scattered around them. she was naked again, straddling his thighs, his hard cock pressed between them as she looked at him with those big conflicted eyes, the high making her thoughts spill out.

“my friends keep saying you’re not good for me,” she murmured, voice soft but shaky, even as her body betrayed her and rocked slowly against him. “they basically said that this is a bit too fast, that this… all the coke and everything… it’s too much. maybe they’re right.” you said.

he smirked, that darkness flaring as he cupped her jaw, thumb brushing her lips. “they’re just jealous, baby,” he whispered, leaning back and sprinkling a thick line of coke across his abs, right below his chest. “don’t listen to them. they don’t know how good this feels. how good we feel.” he guided her head down gently but firmly. “c’mon, snort it off me. show me you know better.” he assured.

she hesitated for half a second, then leaned in, pressing her nose to his warm skin and snorting the line hard. the rush hit her instantly, making her moan and grind down on his cock. rafe groaned, hands gripping her hips. “that’s my girl. fuck, you’re so pretty when you do that.”

“but rafe—” she started again, eyes glassy as she licked the residue off his abs, tongue dragging over the defined lines of his muscles.

“shh, don’t listen to them baby,” he cooed, voice low and persuasive while he lined up more powder along his chest. “they want you back in that boring good girl cage. i love you. i fucking love seeing you like this. free and high.” he pulled her up for a deep kiss, letting her suck the last bits off his tongue before pushing another line onto his thigh.

she snorted it obediently, the words sinking in with the high, her doubts melting as pleasure took over. “you love me?” she whispered, already positioning herself over his cock, sinking down slowly with a gasp.

“yeah, i love you,” rafe growled, hands on her ass as she started to ride him, rolling her hips in needy circles. “love my little christian slut. ride me, baby. show me you’re not listening to that bullshit.” he encouraged.

she moaned louder, bouncing on his cock now, hands braced on his chest as she rode him harder, the coke making everything feel electric. rafe thrust up to meet her, watching her tits bounce while she lost herself in it, doubts forgotten in the rush of him inside her and the powder buzzing through her veins. “good girl,” he praised, licking stray powder off her chin before kissing her again. “just keep riding me like that.”

notes. this is just a little bit rushed, i hope this met your expectations! ♡

sweettoothrafe

𝑺𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓? 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕. 𝟐

rafe cameron x reader

Summary: What if you were the one who saved Sarah from drowning instead of Topper? Unfortunately, being the hero comes with consequences in risking your own life at the hands of Rafe Cameron. part one -> HERE ⚠️warnings⚠️: dead dove, do not eat, 18+ content, mommy kink asfff, smut (dubcon), mentions of murder & blood, drug usage, violence, language, kidnapping, manipulation, gaslighting, gun violence, childhood trauma, stockholm syndrome (ish), angst

As uncomfortable as you were, you eventually fell asleep. Waking up every now and then to make sure that you were still alive. You knew it was morning time when birds started to chirp outside. It was hard for you to process how you ended up in this situation.

One minute you were running an errand for your dad, and the next you were running for your life. You can't even imagine the amount of messages your parents and friends had sent you. Since Rafe took your phone, you could only assumed that he messaged them on your behalf, telling them that everything was fine. You pondered about your next concern when a sudden rattle shook the door.

Scrambling back to a fetal position, you pretended to fall asleep. Rafe entered the room with heavy footsteps, stalking closer to you.

Rafe looks you over, studying your current state. You were blindfolded, your wrists were bound together, and lastly you smelled like dirt and asphalt. From Rafe's point of view, you looked like a hot mess.

And while you couldn't see it now, he looked like one too. It was safe to say that Rafe hasn’t gotten proper sleep over the past few days. From crashing on Barry’s couch, to traveling to different countries with his dad, Rafe’s health has gone downhill. Not to mention that his dinner these days consisted of coke and whiskey.

He cleared his scratchy throat.

“I didn’t want to do this to you, but you left me with no choice.”

You controlled your breathing, enough to not make it obvious that you were awake. He hesitated to touch the scar on your forehead from when you collapsed, and immediately pulled his hand away. He removed the blindfold from your eyes. The morning sun blazing down on you, causing you to squint. It took you a while to adjust to the room’s lighting, but the first thing you noticed was how Rafe looked at you. He appeared more restless than angry or upset. And for a second there, you swore you saw a hint of guilt in his eyes.

“I brought you some food. Figured you were hungry” his voice echoed the room.

A paper bag was placed on the nightstand beside you. The aroma of pancakes and bacon filled your senses as your stomach grumbled. It's been hours since the last time you've eaten.

A small nod was all you gave him before turning your head away. There wasn’t much to say anyways.

"Thanks for keeping me alive."

"Can you let me go?"

"I won’t tell anyone!"

Those are just useless remarks that won't make Rafe budge.

“Look, what happened last night wasn’t supposed to happen.”

You slowly turned your head back towards him, as that caught your attention.

Rafe kneels next to the bed, reaching out his hand to touch your arm. You flinched immediately, causing Rafe to back up. He raises his hands up in defense, proving that he wasn’t a threat.

“I-i just lost control over myself, and I didn’t expect you to be there” He runs his hands through his hair.

JJ's theory then enters your mind.

"Remember, Pogue pass!"

You scrunched your face at that. “So, if I wasn’t there… you would’ve killed Sarah. Is that what you’re saying?”

Rafe's eyebrows furrow. Shocking him that you would even accuse him of such a thing.

“What? No! no. Sarah wanted to hurt me! She wanted to take what’s mine!” He attempted to raise his voice, but an abrupt cough stopped him.

You shifted uncomfortably at his contradictory response. “You pointed a gun at me, Rafe. Do you have an excuse for that?”

Rafe's patience was running thin. He raised his hands in disbelief at all these accusations you're throwing at him. How come nobody takes my side for once? He thought.

“No, y/n I don't. But I’m not the guy that you- or everyone thinks I am." He wipes his nose with the back of his hand. "You'll see."

💙 ೃ࿔*:･ 💙 ೃ࿔*:･ 💙 ೃ࿔*:･

Rafe dedicated the rest of the day to “watch over you”. He knew that he couldn’t keep you for long before the police and your family started questioning about your whereabouts. Not to mention the rest of the Pogues sticking their nose into his fucking business. But in order for Rafe to prove that he’s not the “monster” that you think he is, your abductor decided to remove the zip ties from your hands and allowed you to use the bathroom to clean yourself up. Though that didn't mean that you were entirely free. You were only allowed in the bedroom, while the rest of the beach house was off limits. And the moment you got out of the shower, he was watching you like a hawk. Even suggested to watch you dress just in case you “pulled some bullshit” on him. You stated how that's totally unnecessary, but Rafe was unconvinced.

"You should be grateful that I'm letting you shower" he fired back.

Scoffing at his demand, you dropped your towel, exposing your naked body to him. You quickly dressed yourself with the clothes that he provided for you. Which was a navy blue tee that had a sunset on it, and a pair of black gym shorts. Rafe watched your every move, making your heart race at his predatory stare. Let alone, how he was ogling at your tits. The way they bounced when you pulled his t-shirt over your head. How beautiful and soft they looked under it. A visible tenting started to form on his jeans, making him painfully hard at the sight of you. Once you were done dressing up, Rafe had to turn around to adjust himself.

He might as well put a leash on you for how close he wanted you to him.

Rafe didn't mention Sarah at all. But the reason why he left the previous night was so see what ended up happening to her. It was confirmed that a fisherman saw her as he got off his boat and brought her to the hospital. She's now in a coma under critical conditions due to the head injury that Rafe caused her. And as fucked up as it sounds, it saved his ass.

You munched on your breakfast, while Rafe installed the new security system in the room. As he got to work, you noticed how fatigue and pale he's gotten. Even placing the alarm on top of the door had him breaking a sweat. You counted how many times he wiped his forehead, which was about 10 times. Not to mention the excessive over-the-counter meds and cough syrup that he dumped all over the floor. It was obvious that he just grabbed whatever he could find at the pharmacy. You hummed at the sight of this. Of course he’s not some immortal vampire, but it was strange to see Rafe so…weak. You wanted to laugh at how even the most toughest, violent people can get the flu.

“Are you sick?” you blurted out.

Rafe looked at you like you were the crazy one.

“No y/n, I’m not sick” He lifts his palm up in annoyance.

More sweat trickled down his forehead and towards his neck. You stood up from where you were sitting and placed the back of your hand on his forehead.

“What the-“ he weakly attempted to push your hand away.

“Rafe, you’re burning up” you solemnly said.

He looked everywhere else in the room, but you. His sweaty bangs clung onto his forehead as he continued to shiver. He pulled the same North Face grey jacket closer towards his body.

“Hello? Did you hear me?” You sarcastically waved at him. “Let me help you.”

A confused expression flashes on his face.

“A-and wh-why would you want do that, huh? Don't you hate me? You probably want me dead after what I-I did to Sarah.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose out of frustration. “Jesus, Rafe. Can I not be a decent human being?"

Looking down on the ground, you added, “And I … still don’t understand why you did that to her.” Confusion filled your mind as to why he even attempted to drown Sarah.

He shuts his eyes at that. More shivering and chattering releases from his body as he regretted bringing his sister up.

Rafe’s hand continued to shake as he grabbed his water bottle from the nightstand. Taking a big gulp from it, he grimaced when pain shot up from his throat.

“I don’t need your help” he mumbled. He then goes back to work on the alarm system when a loud exasperated sigh leaves you.

Rafe Cameron was a lot of things, but his stubbornness was like pouring salt on a wound.

“If you die, then who's Shoupe going to blame? Me, the Pogue! So can you just stop what you're doing and let me handle this?” Your chest rose up and down heavily. Rafe stops mid-way, not expecting that meltdown from you. He slowly drops the last piece of the alarm, and made his way towards you.

After experiencing the most stressful 24 hours of your life, you craved for at least some control. Even if that meant placing a cooling pack on Rafe Cameron’s forehead.

Rafe doesn’t remember the last time that he got sick, or even the last time he got taken cared by someone who wasn’t his mom. Mrs. Cameron was the most caring person that Rafe has ever met. She would take care of him when he would get sick as a child. Making sure he finished every drop of that nasty cherry cough syrup that he despised. But Rafe would easily comply, as long as it made his mom happy. “So you can be strong to play at the park again!” she would say to him. Afterwards, she would reward Rafe with his favorite orange popsicle to suppress the bitter taste of the medicine.

And if Rafe continued his good behavior, Mrs. Cameron would take him to the store to pick out a new toy. Those were the best memories that he had with his mom. But when there’s good, there’s also the bad. Along with taking the horrible cough medicine, the one thing that Rafe hated the most was getting fever dreams. It always consisted of somebody dying and leaving him to be all alone. He would wake up with a cold sweat, screaming for his mom to come and comfort him. She would bust through his door in seconds, and without a doubt hold him to calm him down.

“Oh my baby! You’re okay, mommy’s here.”

But ever since she’s been gone, Ward refused to comfort him like how his mom would. Saying that it was “just a dream”, and to “man up” at such a young age. But when Sarah would get sick, Ward would be at her bedside giving her the same treatment that his mom once gave him. And that made Rafe's blood boil with jealousy. So from that moment forward, Rafe swore to himself that he’ll keep healthy to avoid those fever dreams.

Well, up until now.

💙 ೃ࿔*:･ 💙 ೃ࿔*:･ 💙 ೃ࿔*:･

“You know, you were always my favorite out of all my sister’s friends.”

You rung the excess water of the soaked rag back into the basin of water. Placing the small towel on his forehead.

“We barely spoke, Rafe. You were always intoxicated when I saw you” you said, confused as to why he even brought that up.

Rafe picks at a small thread on the mini sofa, contemplating his thoughts.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t watching.”

You went quiet, not knowing what to say next. But this whole JJ theory of Rafe giving you the “Pogue pass” has been gnawing at you all day.

Hesitantly, you say, “Actually, it’s funny that you say that. JJ told me this crazy theory that you have a soft spot for me or something” You lazily wave your hand up in the air, indicating how ridiculous that sounded.

Rafe’s expression darkened. You mentioning JJ was like a threat to him. “Don’t. Don’t mention that Pogue bastard right now”, He snapped. His tone vulgar, like he ate something bad and spat it out.

You froze in place, wanting to take back what you said.

“He didn’t mean it in a bad way, Rafe. I didn’t even believe him. And don’t call him that, you know I’m also a Pogue” You defended.

Rafe scratches his chin seeing your reaction to his comment. He suddenly grabs both of your hands, stopping you from picking up another towel.

“No, I know that. I just don’t like it when people talk about me, you know?” His hands tightly gripping yours now.

You gently nodded, wanting to escape out of his hold. “Yeah of course. I do too.”

Rafe’s blue orbs stares you down, scanning your face once again. He finally releases your hands. “See, you get it” he says, shrugging. Silence fell over you two, while tension clouded the air. You then motioned him to give you his arm so you could start wiping them.

“It’s not a theory, by the way” Rafe mutters quietly. You looked up at him, hoping he could repeat what he said.

“I’ve always liked you, y/n. You were the kindest one out of all of them.”

Your face started to flush, it almost felt as hot as his temperature. It was one thing to hear it from somebody else, but since Rafe confirmed it, you didn’t know what to think. Did he always feel like this towards you? Who else did he treat this way? Does that mean that you’re safe from him?

You cleared your throat, trying to cover up your awkwardness.

“Uh, okay. I have to get your back now. Can you take off your shirt?” You instructed him.

He cocks his head to the side, moving forward on the sofa. He pulls off his shirt from grabbing it from the back. His defined abs and muscles were now present for you to touch.

“Your turn”, a cocky smirk grew on his face.

You threw the wet rag at his chest.

“Do that shit yourself!” you appalling said.

A light chuckle flows out of him, something so rare for you to hear.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. Okay i’ll behave now.”

Blushing at this little interaction, you were more than grateful that his back was now facing you. Rafe would have definitely teased you about it. As you started to wipe down his muscular back in long slow strokes, you felt his muscles flex when you traced the edges of his back.

"Relax, Rafe" You reminded him, which he immediately did after saying so. While you proceeded to cool him down, you observed the rest of his body. You bit your lip at how big and tall he was. You would be lying if you said he wasn't attractive. Rafe's appearance has certainly changed over the past few months. For starters, he stopped abusing his hair gel. Now, he went for a more messy curtain bangs hairstyle that sculpted his facial features perfectly. And you couldn't ignore how his biceps looked like they were going to pop out from his stupid polo shirts. So it was a no brainer that Rafe worked out religiously, considering how the Cameron’s own a private gym in their home.

Shifting slightly from where you were sitting, your hand started to pick up the pace. But that didn't help the perverted thoughts from invading your mind. You fantasized about scratching his back while he was pressed on top of you. Your long manicured nails causing red marks all over him, marking him as your territory. And how he would grind himself further and further into you, making you scream his name in pleasure.

“Rafe! I need more of you!” you would whine.

He would start whispering into your ear, talking about how good you’re doing for him. Allowing your legs to wrap around his waist, so he could continue to fuck the hell out of you. Your pussy started to throb, causing you squeeze your thighs together to suppress the pain. Or how Rafe would-

“You okay? You went quiet” Rafe said, breaking your dirty sexual thoughts about him. He turned his head around to face you, blinking at your dreamy expression.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Guess I’m just tired” You gulped at your embarrassingly twisted thoughts, which made your head go dizzy.

“Cmon, let’s take a nap right here” Rafe suggested, patting the sofa so you can lay right next him.

The idea didn’t seem all too bad. Although he was still lethargic, he was no longer burning up. And the both of you were in deep need of sleep after everything that happened. You agreed to his suggestion, making yourself comfortable as you settled beside him. You thought about how he admitted that he liked you, so you were no longer in his bad graces.

“Here, take these”, you hand him two pills to overcome his sickness for good. He pops them in his mouth and washes it down with water. He slowly closes his eyes as he lays his head on your shoulder. Rafe has never looked so peaceful before, and it felt nice to just relax for once. Everything felt normal, like how it should be.

Until...it wasn't.

Flashbacks of last night started to rush to your mind. The way Sarah’s life was threatened by her own brother. His gun aimed directly at your head while you begged him for mercy. How he tied and locked you up, only letting you out because he needed someone to take care of him. Everything that you thought about made you realize that this wasn’t okay at all. You should not be nice to Rafe. You should not be taking care of him. And most definitely, you should not be cuddling next to him! What would your friends think? How about Sarah? Was she even alive?

You slowly removed yourself from the couch, careful not to wake him. But the invisible leash that he put on you earlier had you reeling back in. A sudden cool hand engulfed your wrist, preventing you from going any further.

“Mhm. Where you going?” Rafe questions, his voice soft and sleepy.

You attempt to steady your voice from panicking.

“Rafe, hey. Uh, just go back to sleep” you reassured him.

Rafe was now fully alert with your sudden change of position. He sat up from his sleeping spot, and stares at you like you’re a painting on the wall.

“Y/n… Where were you going?” he repeats himself, but with more of a deep and low rumble.

“Nowhere, I was staying right here” you lied.

Rafe abruptly banged his fist on the sofa's arm rest, causing you to flinch.

“You were going to leave me were you? Leave me like the rest of them!” pool of tears started to flood his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that you never got to see naturally because they were always blown up from drugs.

“Rafe this isn’t right! You almost killed Sarah! An-and you pointed a gun at me!” Your voice broke down at each word that you managed to spit out.

Rafe lunges towards you, engulfing your hands with his. “I thought we passed this? Don’t you understand that I care about you now?” Rafe grabs your chin to look up at him, but you shook your head, refusing to even look in his direction.

Rafe slid down to his knees to match your height. His hands clutches your waist, forming red handprints on them from his possessive grasp.

“Listen to yourself, Rafe! Nothing is going to fix this!”

You tried to push him away from you, but he didn’t move, not even an inch. Rafe started talking to himself, begging to not be alone.

“Please, I can’t be alone anymore. I- I can’t!”

Rafe then lifts your shirt, planting wet sloppy kisses on your abdomen, making his way down towards your pelvis.

His desperation for love made your heart wrench.

Rafe slowly stands up, backing you towards the bed. And with a little more force, he cages you beneath him.

You shrieked from the sudden impact that your body made to the bed.

“You got your strength back” You gasped, holding in a sob.

Rafe started to cradle your face, using his thumb to swipe your swollen lips. A mischievous smirk formed on his face as he inched closer and closer.

“Well, I got the best nurse on the island taking care of me.”

Not waiting any longer, Rafe crashes his lips onto yours. His soft lips drunkenly danced against yours, as he roughly held you against him.

You squeeze your eyes shut, your body stiffening at his "affection".

“Just let me, please. I won’t hurt you. You know that.” He deepens the kiss further, placing his hands on both sides of your head to trap you in. You slightly opened your mouth to take a deep breath, which gave Rafe's tongue the opportunity to enter your mouth. He removed one hand from the side of your face to take off your gym shorts and panties. He then strips your shirt- or his shirt- off in a second, drooling at the sight of your tits. He goes in to massage your inner thighs first, then making his way down towards your cunt. Your pussy was drenched in seconds, while your stomach twisted in pleasure and panic.

“Oh fuck, Rafe” you arched your back from the bed, a sense of euphoria sneaking up on you as he fastens the pace of fingering your tight pussy.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I got you” Rafe licks against your ear, making you squirm from the wetness.

“Let me be the one to take care of you now.”

The evidence of your arousal echos throughout the room. Your hand clawed at the bedsheets beside you, while your other hand was used to suppress your moans. But, you couldn’t keep quiet, making it hard for you to resist.

“So wet and good for me, baby. But don’t cum for me just yet. I wanna taste you when you do.”

Rafe lowers himself onto you, not breaking any eye contact. His intense gaze causes your nerves to jolt.

He licks his lips before attacking your wet sensitive pussy. Looking at you like you're his last meal. Rafe attaches his tongue on to you, his skilled technique causes your legs to shake tremendously. He creates swirls around your folds first, then licking each side back and forth.

Rafe frowns at the way you're covering your mouth. He shoots his hand out to pull yours away.

"If I don't hear you scream, you won't cum. You understand? It's just us here, baby. Be as loud as you want."

Your cheeks started to warm as you obeyed to his command. "Yeah, yeah okay."

"Good girl." Rafe directs your hand to his hair instead, giving you the chance to pull and tug on it. After teasing you, he finally goes to your clit. You whimpered, an explosive feeling that you've been anticipating for. Yanking on Rafe's hair, you felt his smile grow inside of you.

"Rafe! Oh, fuck me!” Your body felt like it was on fire.

"Fuck you? You want me to fuck you?" He taunts. You almost came in his mouth right then and there.

He sucked on your aching clit, while you grabbed your tits for more. Overstimulated by the pleasure, you felt yourself about to cum. And Rafe being...Rafe, he decided to spit directly inside of you. Tongue fucking you with his saliva and your cum all at once. Which was ultimately your breaking point. You moaned on the top of your lungs, too much pleasure taking over you like a tidal wave. Your tits bounced up and down while you released yourself into Rafe's mouth. As he was saturated with your juices, he licked every drop out of you. "That's it, cum all over my mouth" He praises.

"I'm not letting you rest, baby. Still gotta fuck you" Rafe pulls off his jeans, his large bulge already rubbing on you through his boxers. You were tired of his teasing, so you pulled down his boxers for him. He displays a playful smirk at your reaction to his hard cock being bigger than your hand. Rafe aligns himself up to you, rubbing himself onto your drenched cunt first. "Yeah, right there", he coos. He slaps his cock onto your pulsating cunt, then finally pushes himself into your opening. "This Pogue pussy so tight for me, yeah?" he exhales. A loud yelp escapes you, Rafe's cock stretches you out so good. He starts to pick up his pace, pumping himself into you. A 'gooey' sound bounces off the walls every time his cock disappears into your pretty cunt. You lift your legs to pull him closer, wrapping yourself around Rafe's waist like a present.

"Shit Rafe! Oh, that feels so good" You breathlessly moaned out. You started to rub his sculpted back up and down, feeling him clench himself around you. And without you knowing it, you were digging your nails into Rafe, marking him with your touch. Red scratches start to form from his shoulders down to his tailbone. You repeatedly scream his name, letting everyone on the island know that Rafe Cameron is fucking you. Rafe sucked on your neck that left purple bruises down to your breasts. "You're doing so good for me" He whispers, leaving a sloppy wet trail of kisses down your neck. The same warm feeling of sensation grows deeper as you grind yourself inside of him. Moving your hips at the same time as Rafe, he starts to whimper.

"Oh fuck, fuck I'm coming. Let me cum inside of you. I-I need you."

You jerk your head up and down, ready to take his cum too.

"Cum into me! Baby, I need you inside of me!"

You both arrive at the same time. Rafe's cum fires inside of you, filling up your walls. While you coat his dick with your creamy juices. "There's my girl, that's it" he praises once more. You fell silent, grabbing a blanket from the floor to wrap yourself up.

“How did I do, baby? Was it what you imagined?”

You blink rapidly, as you came back from your high off Rafe's cock. Your chest heaved up and down when you realized what you've done.

"Oh my god Rafe, I-"

"I love you too” He interjects, planting a gentle kiss on your cheek before making his way towards the bathroom.

💙 ೃ࿔*:･ 💙 ೃ࿔*:･ 💙 ೃ࿔*:･

Rafe throws his head back. Your soft gentle hand pumps his hard long cock. The wet sensational noise fills the room, and his pretty moans with it. You look up at him, batting your lashes while you give him your best “fuck me” eyes that almost had him cumming all over your face.

“Baby, put me in your mouth. You can take me, can’t you?”

You nodded, replacing your hand with your sweet mouth, taking his entire length in one go. His pre-cum making contact with your watery mouth. Rafe bucked his hips faster at the same time you sucked him. His cock disappearing into you as he abused your mouth.

“Lemme move this for you” Rafe grabs your hair in a fist, pulling on it each time he feels like he's about to cum.

A deep moan escapes you. Your warm tongue sucks his cock like it’s a lollipop.

“You fuck my mouth so good, Rafe!”

You took his tip over and over, not taking him out once to even breathe. You smile to yourself as you scraped your teeth a little, just the way he likes it.

And that sent Rafe over the edge.

“Fuck! me baby. I’m coming. I’m coming!”

Rafe’s load fills your mouth, warm and sticky cum shooting down your throat. And like the dirty girl that you are, you swallowed all of it. More of his extra juices dripped down your chin, so you took your ring finger to wipe it off to smear it all over your perfectly plumped tits.

You were about to change positions, before Rafe suddenly stops you. Rafe grips your thighs while he towers over you on the bed. Holding the back of your neck so you only look at him.

"Once I get rid of Sarah, that Pogue bastard JJ, and the rest of them, it’ll just be you and I, y/n. I know you think I'm this terrible guy, but I promise you I'm not. I know you don’t want to be like them.”

You look up at him with the same "fuck me eyes", nodding at him like he was your savior.

"You're mine, yeah?"

"I'm only yours" You repeat back to him.

He pulls you closer by your neck, kissing you so hard that he start to growl. His teeth comes into contact with yours as he bruises your lips. You break the kiss, giggling as you push him down onto the bed. You then go on top of his thigh, while you start to grind on him. You shamelessly moan his name over and over.

“Rafe! Oh Rafe! Rafe!”

You used your hands to massage your breasts as they juggle in his direction. Rafe hums seeing you in such a vulgar state. It was like he was dreaming to see you like this. A fantasy he couldn’t even comprehend.

“Keep going, baby. Keep soakin' up my thigh" He swipes his tongue on his bottom lip.

An idea suddenly pops in your head, causing you to slow down. A teasing smirk plays on your face.

“I have a surprise for you” you cheer so sweetly. Rafe loved it when you were his biggest cheerleader.

“Oh yeah? What is it baby” Rafe props himself up with his elbows, intrigued by your next act.

You bit on your lip, laying gently on your back. “Ready?” you say with a giggle. You opened your legs like an elevator, exposing your pretty pussy to him. Rafe’s mouth gapes open, his cock still painfully hard from when you sucked it. He then goes on all fours, crawling towards your hot dripping cunt. Rafe couldn't wait any longer to insert himself into you and come all over of your insides. As he inched closer, a gush of water started to flow out of you.

Panic started to rise in him.

“Ar-are you okay?” he worriedly asked.

By the time you answered, a big wave of water comes out of you, causing him to fly backwards into a deep container of water. Rafe quickly swims to the top of the container, breathing heavily to catch his breath. As he started to breathe normally, he was suddenly pushed down again. Seeing his little sister, Sarah, with her hands around his neck. She forcefully holds him down, cutting off his airways. Rafe claws at her arms, screaming at her to stop. But it was no use, Rafe’s lungs were already filled with water. A sinister grin appeared on Sarah's sweet face as she walked away. Rafe’s eyes were left open as he stared into darkness. His soul watching himself die a miserable and lonely death. But then, a ray of light beamed down, making the darkness disappear. Sunshine appeared as you entered the room. Your face was drenched from crying so much, but the heat immediately dried your tears away. You brought him flowers, a perfect shade of blue that matches with his eye color. Once you placed the flowers directly on his chest, you planted a sweet kiss on top of his forehead.

“Goodbye, Rafe.”

Before walking away, you picked something else from the ground. A black rectangular object fitting perfectly in your hands, all nice and sleek. With the initials R.C engraved on the trigger. Not wasting anymore time, you aim the gun at Rafe's head. A loud *boom* echoes, causing the water to ripple. The container overflowed with red, scarlet liquid.

“Y/N! No!” Rafe shoots up from his bed. His chest heavy and wet from all the sweat. Fear rises in him as he searches his surroundings. But instead of seeing the devil waving at him in Hell, Rafe was safe in his room. He cursed to himself when he realized that it was indeed just a fever dream. Rafe lifts his hand to wipe his forehead, but something was stopping him. He looks down, seeing that his hands were tied together.

“The fuck?” he groans to himself. A whimper escapes him as he felt soreness radiating off his wrists.

Rafe rotates himself to the right side of the bed, seeing an empty spot with wrinkled sheets. A spot that you were supposed to be in. Confusion approaches him as he attempts to stand up, but his ankles were tied up as well.

“Real kinky, y/n! You can come out now!” a crazed chuckle escapes him. Seconds had passed, and there was no indication that you were there. Rafe waited a bit longer, and still, the Cameron beach house remained silent as it was. Then, a heavy breeze enters the room, catching Rafe's attention. He turns his head to where it was coming from, seeing how the bedroom window was left wide open.

“Y/N!” he uses full force to scream now.

“Where the fuck are you!” Rafe’s face flushed of red, as he kicked the sheets away from him. His anger slowly turned into laughter, and his laughter turned into tears.

Rafe Cameron was all alone. No one to comfort him as another woman who shown compassionate for him, has left him.

authors note: aww! poor rafey cam cam! ☹️ anyways… LOLOL that’s the end of "Saving me or her?" !! thank you for all the likes and comments on part 1 ;) i finally managed to finish a story and not ghost it !! woo we all cheered !! 🥳 enjoy! (also popped my smut cherry w/ this story...yeah i discovered new things abt myself)

taglist🍥: @babydollrafe @rafesdaydream @filthyrafe @urfavlocalgirly @nemophilisteel @kimmk2590 @babyturquoise4

kill3ill

cake | rafe cameron

cw. canon rafe, unhealthy obsession, stalking, rafe and a one-sided crush (at first), angst, kissing, needy rafe, masturbation (m), meltdowns, confessions, lots of dialogue, inebriated sex, drugs, unprotected sex, semi public sex, breeding, size kink (rafe has a huge dick), dom/sub, possessiveness, light cumplay, reader is often pressured into acts with rafe. it is not entirely consensual.

synopsis. rafe has never had such intense feelings for someone until he met you. his problem is that he doesn't know how to get you to want him back.

Rafe watches you intently as you flit around the snack bar at the country club, serving a rich family overpriced ice creams. You'd been working at the concessions stand since summer started. No doubt a seasonal job to pay for college. He could pay your whole tuition and not bat an eye, and it's not like he hasn't offered on multiple occasions.

He'd been strangely offended when you'd gotten defensive and angry. You accused him of throwing money at you like you're a whore. You think the worst of him. He knows you do. He can see the way you behave around him.

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