c/w .𖥔 ݁ ˖ swearing, pet names, edging + denial, pussy slapping, fingering + oral (fem. receiving), brief unprotected p in v, light degradation, possessiveness, dom!rafe, crying, overstim., consensual + down bad rafe
2,604 words
𝓋𝒾𝒹𝑒𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓌…
“Hey, pretty.” His thumb brushes your cheek, the other clutching a bouquet of flowers.
“You got me flowers?” You smile, leaning into his touch a little as his eyes fall to your lips.
“‘Course I did.” His hand drops, not going far, fingers lacing through yours.
He looks down at your hand in his, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile when he sees your nails.
“New?” He asks, glancing up at you briefly before looking back down. He hums softly before you can answer, like he already knows. “Yeah, I like these.”
He keeps your hand and lifts it, guiding you into a slow turn under his finger, his eyes moving over you, taking in the outfit you put on for him.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, softer now. “That’s my girl.”
You tug him further into the house, a breathy laugh slipping out of you when he follows without hesitation, letting you lead him like he wasn’t already planning to.
The door shuts behind him with a quiet click. His hands settle at your waist, pulling you closer. His nose brushes along your neck, lips ghosting against you, kissing wherever they land with a soft press.
“Fuck me… that the perfume I got you, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice vibrating against your skin as he breathes it in.
You tilt your head back with a smile, giving him more access, a soft confirmation slipping from your lips.
“Knew it,” he hums, pleased with himself.
Your sundress shifts as you press your chest to his, skimming higher on the back of your thighs. He smiles into your skin as he takes advantage of it—his rough hands sliding to grip your ass, lifting you off your feet. You let out a surprised laugh, arms coming up around his shoulders, guiding him closer.
“Miss me?” He murmurs against your neck, not waiting for an answer.
“Maybe,” you tease, breath catching when he bites down lightly.
“Yeah?” He huffs, amused, tightening his grip just enough. “Couldn’t tell.”
“Did you have fun?” You ask, moving close enough that your mouth brushes his when you speak.
“Sure,” he answers with the dry wit of a man who would rather be where he is right now. Then he’s right back on you, his mouth dragging from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck.
“Rafe,” you giggle softly, fingers sliding into his hair, tugging just enough that he groans for more.
“I did,” he adds, quieter, his voice already a little breathless. “Until you told me to come over… didn’t wanna be anywhere else.”
“Sorry, baby.”
“Sure,” he echoes with the same bite. “Started playin’ like shit,” he mutters, the words half lost against your lips. “Couldn’t focus. Kept thinkin’ about you.”
“I should’ve waited.”
“Stop,” he chuckles, like that’s even an option. “Still beat ’em.”
“Of course you did.”
“Stop feedin’ my ego,” he mutters. “Got you in my arms… don’t need help.”
“Please,” you breathe, cheeks burning from the compliment, smiling as Rafe’s lips drag along your neck, sucking at the soft skin, his teeth sinking in with that playful possessiveness you love.
“Made some cash,” he adds. “Gonna take you out later.”
“Yeah?”
“That place you like. Drinks, dinner… we’ll get that dessert you like.” His mouth drags back up your throat. “Do this again after.”
Your back hits the bed with a bounce, and he follows you down a second later, settling onto his knees.
Your fingers drift to the hem of your dress, lifting it slowly, a quiet laugh slipping out of him when you do something he likes.
“Atta girl,” he mutters under his breath.
His hat is gone the next second, flicked off without a thought, his shirt following right after—pulled over his head and tossed aside.
He runs his hands through his hair, pushing it back, and you don’t even try to hide the way you’re looking at him.
“You’re staring,” he points out, a little amused, like he wants you to.
Your hands slide over his chest slowly, feeling the heat of his skin, the way his muscles flex under your touch.
“Can you blame me?” You murmur.
The sound of his belt loosening cuts in, and he lets out a quiet breath, snapping it through the loops. His hands come down to your thighs, warm and steady as he presses them into the bed, pinning you beneath him.
“Look at you,” he says as his thumb drags along the crease between your skin and your panties.
He leans over you without breaking eye contact, one hand braced beside your head as he dips down, catching your lips again.
“All dressed up for me…” He murmurs quietly.
You let out a soft sigh against his mouth, your hands coming up to his shoulders, feeling the tension there.
His mouth drags lower, from your neck down to your chest, before he lifts the lace cups of your bra just enough to knead your flesh, his mouth sucking down on the other while his body grinds into the mattress, keeping pace with each swirl of his tongue.
He releases your nipple with a pop, kissing down your stomach, his breathing hot against your skin, heat building with each touch.
Your fingers slide into his hair, raking through his bangs, guiding him lower until his mouth reaches your hip. He pauses there, lips brushing, goosebumps spreading across your skin.
His grip firms, thumbs pressing into your skin as he leans in closer, his breath warm where it hits, his gaze still locked on yours.
“Rafe, please.”
“Yeah… yeah,” he murmurs teasingly, his voice rougher now. “Fuckin’ desperate, huh? I can tell.”
His hands adjust on you, keeping you right where he wants you as he leans in again, slower this time, more deliberate.
“Easy… Stay put,” he mutters, low and steady, thumbing over your clothed clit, making your hips buck, your lip caught between your teeth as you try to stay still. “You don’t think I know what my girl wants?”
His hand leaves your thigh for a second, sliding up your body, big and warm as it catches the fabric of your dress and pushes it higher.
“Show off, baby. C’mon now,” he murmurs like he’s starving for it, watching from between your thighs as you lift your bra completely. “So fucking beautiful. Oh my god,” he moans against you, making your back arch.
His tongue retraces the same path, gliding up your inner thigh along the lace, licking just beneath it before he catches the fabric between his teeth, tugging your panties to the side.
You shiver as your wetness hits the breeze of the ceiling fan above, your thighs drawing in, squeezing his broad shoulders between them. Looking up into his blue eyes, you spread your legs—Rafe kissing your clit like a thank you, groaning into you before he drags a line up your slit.
“Fuckin’ soaked,” he murmurs, more to himself than you. “Didn’t even make me work for it.”
His arms slide under your thighs, biceps flexing as he pulls you closer, diving in. Your fingers tug at his hair again, your other hand twisting in the sheets, gasping as his finger presses into your entrance, your body tightening around it as it curls and thrusts.
He leans into it, his mouth just far enough away that you’re left reaching and trembling—too much pleasure building to move, to let it fade. His chuckle is low, close enough to make your head spin.
“Yeah?” He huffs.
Your head falls back as it keeps building, so close to the edge you can feel yourself about to break.
“Eyes on me, baby. C’mon,” he murmurs against your sex.
You lift your head again, eyes locked, lips parted. “Fuck, Rafe. I’m gonna cum.”
“That so?” He asks.
You nod immediately, heavy-eyed as you fight to keep them open. “Yes. Yes—” Your body jolts at the loss, a sharp breath punching out of your chest as your hips stutter.
“Yes. Yes. Oh fuck, Rafe,” he mocks, mimicking your breathless tone—just nasal enough to make it sting, his eyes rolling away in annoyance.
“Baby?” You breathe, half disbelief, half frustration hitting all at once. “What—what the hell? Fuck!” The word breaks from your lips as his hand comes down sharp, slapping your pussy, making your eyes well with tears from the shock alone.
His head tilts as he looks back at you, pouting his lip to match yours.
“What’s wrong?” Your voice comes out pathetically small.
“Wrong?” He asks, like the word doesn’t make sense to him. “Nothing’s wrong.” His eyes drop to where his hand is, watching the way you react—how you still follow his touch.
“What,” he adds, crueler now. “You were countin’ on something?” Your stomach twists at the tone, the pleasure that had been building, gone now. “Or someone?”
“I—yeah?”
He hums, playing with you shamelessly, fingers slipping through the wet mess he made.
“U n r e l i a b l e…” He breathes, like he’s thinking out loud more than talking to you, drawing every letter of the word over your clit with his rough finger.
“I don’t know what—what’s going on?” Your words clip off in a gasp as he thrusts his digits in and out, in and out, then stopping—leaving you rocking your pussy into his palm, chasing something he still isn’t giving you.
“Y’know what pissed me off the most?” He asks, his eyes dragging over you slowly, his fingers still moving like he’s still deciding your fate. “It’s not even that you said it… it’s that somebody out there might’ve believed you.”
“Believe what?” You whisper.
His hand slows again—not stopping, just playing, keeping you waiting—just enough to pull you back before you can settle into the feeling of it.
“You tell me,” he says, glancing up at you like the issue’s obvious. But it’s not.
He lets out a low, sharp laugh under his breath, shaking his head in frustration. “You even know what ‘no’ means?” He asks.
You blink up at him, confused, your brows pulling together as your lips part to answer, but nothing really comes out.
He watches that happen in real time, something in his expression shifting when you don’t have an answer.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Didn’t think so.”
“Just tell me, Rafe…”
He exhales through his nose, leaning in closer.
“You know how embarrassing that was today?” He says, quieter this time, like he’s replaying it in his head. “My boys saw that TikTok shit and thought I don’t take care of my girl.”
He looks you over as he says it, slow and pointed, like he’s making sure you feel the ridiculousness of those words.
“Me?” He adds, a disbelieving edge slipping in. “You fuckin’ kidding me?”
“Rafe, I can explain—”
“I mean, look at you, huh?” He murmurs, lifting his fingers, sucking off the wet. “You’re a mess.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say breathlessly, still a little unsure. He just scoffs, muttering your words under his breath. “I was just trying to be funny,” you whimper, soft and a little desperate.
“Funny,” he repeats, his hand resting on the bed beside your head as he lowers himself closer.
“It was silly,” you whisper.
“Tryin’ to be relatable, huh?” He asks, his thumb pressing against your clit, rolling slow. Your brows pull together as he keeps you right on the edge. “Had people lookin’ at you different today,” he mutters. “That’s not how this works with me.”
“I know, baby. I—”
“You really thought I was gonna laugh that shit off?” He laughs, dark and demeaning. “C’mon, baby. You know me better than that… I don’t do halfway,” he mutters. “Not with you. Never have.”
Your eyes roll back in your head, the pressure building between your thighs, your heart racing in your chest.
“I don’t want any girl lookin’ at you,” he says, quieter now, “and thinkin’ they’ve got a man who takes care of them like I take care of you. I don’t want them to think you’re relatin’ to that bullshit, understand?” He asks, slowing his hand just enough to keep you right there—a fat tear rolling warm and heavy down your cheek, landing on your silk pillow.
“You mean so much more to me than that,” you whimper.
“Yeah?” He asks, dipping in to kiss your lips. “Sayin’ you couldn’t rely on me… like I’m not gonna have you like this ten minutes after I walk through the fuckin’ door if I wanted to. Lucky for you I still do—”
“Please,” you whimper as your thighs shake uncontrollably.
He leans in closer, his forehead brushing yours for a second, his tone steady when he speaks again. “Delete that,” he says quietly. “Then we’ll talk.”
“Oh—okay, of course,” the words stutter out of you in a rush, breathless and weak, your hand patting blindly against the bed until you find your phone, fingers fumbling as you lift it between you.
The device trembles in your hand, hitting every button but TikTok, struggling to get from your fyp to your main page. A sharp huff of a laugh leaves him as his eyes drop to your hand, then back to your eyes, something dark and amused flickering there.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, watching you struggle with a simple task. “Who’s got you shakin’ like that, huh?”
“It’s gone,” you say quickly, completely breathless, almost dropping it as you flip it around to show him. “See? I deleted it.”
He takes the phone from your hand, glances at it for half a second, then drops it back onto the mattress, his attention already back on you.
“No more bullshit. You understand me?”
“I’m sorry, baby,” you whisper, nodding immediately as your vision goes hazy, blinking the tears from your eyes as you look up at him.
“Don’t do that shit again.”
“I won’t,” you say quickly. “I promise.”
“You’re a fucking brat sometimes,” he mutters, the tempo of his hand speeding up as your orgasm comes within reach. “My brat.”
“You’re so good to me… I’m sorry.”
His thumb brushes your jaw, tilting your face back toward him. “Better,” he says, almost amused. “See? You learn fast.”
Your eyes pinch shut, your back arching off the mattress, hands wrapping around his body, digging into the broad planes of his back as your body releases.
Your pussy flutters around his fingers as he pounds his hand into you, palm slapping against your clit again and again, until you’re pushing him away from the overstimulation—but he’s having none of that, lowering himself between your thighs to work you with his tongue as well.
He circles your clit, groaning against your heat with each breath of praise that slips from your lips.
“You’re gonna make it up to me,” he breathes against your pussy, spreading your lips apart, your panties stretched at the seams from being yanked. “I’m gonna take care of you like I always fucking do. You’re gonna be screaming my name over and over… I promise you that. You can see how reliable I am then.”
“You always take care of me,” you whisper, pulling down your panties, tearing your dress over your head. He shoves his pants down his thighs, quickly pressing your thigh to your chest, tapping his tip against your pussy.
He traces lower, lips parting when he feels you start to stretch around him.
“C’mon, baby… remind me. Who takes care of you.”
“Rafe Cameron,” his name falls from your lips in a moan, his lips swallowing the sound as he presses his body tight to yours.
He’s home with the twins while you’re stuck at parent-teacher conferences. When you walk in, dinner’s already made, his plate still sitting untouched because he was waiting for you 😌 There are fresh flowers on the counter just because, and he looks up the second you come through the door like you’re the only thought on his mind. Cause duh you areeee.
You shower the long day off together, something soft playing in the background, and it turns into one of those late nights in bed—Netflix half-watched, his arm draped over you, his hand always finding you without even thinking about it. He says something low in your ear about how you’ve “been working too hard,” his mouth barely brushing your skin, telling you to relax for once, that he’s got you.
A lot of snuggling turns into a massage, and the rest you already know—he’s got you exactly where he wants you, taking his time with you like he’s been waiting all day, not letting you lift a finger. 🤭💕
Blinking rapidly, you clear the tears from your eyes as you throw your hands back into the sink, yanking out yet another dirty dish caked in food that sat out far too long. Music blares from Winnie’s room; bass thumping through the walls while she and her friends scream over it.
From the living room comes the clashing sound of plastic, Poppy and Rory shrieking as their fake lightsabers smack together, running circles around the glass coffee table—getting way too rough for comfort—the puppy following right behind them, barking with every other step.
“Pop. Rory—” You warn as you step around the kitchen island to the living room just as the back door flies open.
“Is it that bad?” Max laughs as he walks in with a group of his buddies fresh off the boat, sunburnt beyond belief, glassy-eyed from a few too many drinks, water dripping off all of them as they trail straight across the freshly cleaned floor. “It’ll tan. I’ll be fine—Ma, boats outta gas. Love you—” He hollers before his bedroom door claps shut.
You purse your lips, the weight of your anxiety settling heavy in your chest as you turn back toward the kitchen, already forgetting why you left the sink in the first place—your mind too scattered to try and recall.
It’s overwhelming. Everything is.
“M’home,” Rafe calls from the front door.
You don’t look up right away, but you hear the familiar shuffle—his shoes kicked off near the door, the quiet thud of his briefcase landing on the marble floor, the whisper of silk as he loosens his tie.
Out of the corner of your eye you see him slow down, his head cocking slightly when he sees you, already trying to get a better look at your face.
“Baby?”
“I’m fine, Rafe,” you stop him before he can start. “How are you, baby? How was your day?”
He doesn’t answer, just walks toward you. Your hands dive back into the sink, scrubbing the next dish harder, faster in a feeble attempt to appear busy.
He wraps his arms around your body from behind, his large hands settling over yours before gently guiding you to set the dish back down in the sink.
One by one he pulls the rubber gloves off your hands. Your arms fall around your waist as he hugs you tightly from behind, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.
“Slow down, baby. You’re alright,” he murmurs softly against your neck, pressing a slow kiss there.
“Mom!” Winnie shouts suddenly from the top of the staircase. “When’s the pizza getting here?”
You open your mouth to answer, but Rafe beats you to it. “Soon,” he calls, vague enough for her to nod and walk away—vague enough that you could get away without admitting you forgot, but the way your shoulders fall in defeat after you hear her question tells Rafe everything he needs to know.
He hugs you closer still, nuzzling his face in your neck again, breathing deep. “Bad day, baby?” He mumbles.
“Work was… this. Just everything.” You gesture to the house as Rory and Poppy run across the wet, sandy mess Max left behind, slipping and falling to their bums, giggling it off before starting up again.
“I get it, baby, I’m sorry,” he soothes.
Your cheek melts against him as his arms tighten around you.
“I’m gonna get Max and those shitheads to clean up this mess, dishes too—the twins and I will go get the pizzas, and you… You go do whatever’s gonna make you feel good for the meantime, alright?”
“Rafe, I—”
“Yes, sir,” he chuckles softly as he kisses your cheek playfully. “That’s the only thing you should be sayin’ to me, pretty. No excuses.”
“Yes, sir,” you breathe, a small laugh slipping out of you despite the tears. “Really… I’m okay,” you whisper.
“You had a bad day,” he says gently, turning you into his chest. “This is the least I can do, baby—let me do it.”
You nod as he cups your cheeks, tilting down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead.
“Boat’s outta gas,” you sigh, trying not to laugh but Rafe’s already scoffing like he expected no less—like he’s tired but he wouldn’t change a thing.
“Of course it is. Story of our fuckin’ life, huh?”
“Mhmm…”
“You got plans for tomorrow?” He whispers as he pulls you close, letting his forehead rest against yours.
“Nothing,” you smile, your voice still trembling a little.
“Perfect,” he hums. “Gonna fill up that goddamn boat… Get you your favorite meal—some drinks. And we can just sit. Silence. Sunset. You and me.”
“I’d love that,” you sigh.
“Mmm… I love you, baby,” he hums, leaning down to meet your lips again.
💌🎭 “ i don't actually mind seeing you like this. ”
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ pairing : husband!rafe x reader
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ contains : fluff, slight suggestive
ᝰ.ᐟ🖇️ this actually happened to me so i had an idea 💡
you were in a rush, walking through the store like there's a bomb ticking strapped around your body as you excuse yourself through the people shopping there, too. a sigh of relief escaped you when you finally reached the part of the store you needed the most at this moment—the undergarments section.
it was almost silly to look at you rummaging through the rack so quickly it almost looked suspicious from your body language. without any double take, you take a few sets of panties from the rack labeled with your size before going straight to the counter for checkout. what you didn't notice is that someone had seemingly put the wrong size in the section, making it a size smaller than the ones you need.
you were oblivious, glad that you had made it home before rafe had come home from work until the moment you had a try on session right before bed, after taking a shower. rafe was still in the shower, both of you getting ready for bed after the long day you had of running errands.
"what the fuck." you mumbled to yourself, thumbs slipping under the cloth of the newly bought panties you're now wearing. most of your ass were practically out, the panties doing anything, but actually covering you as you turn your back towards the mirror to look at yourself. "did it shrink on the way home or what?" you question, a frown etching on your face when you move your hands down to cup the leftovers of your ass.
"now, what do we have here?" rafe whistled, walking out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist as he look at you with a knowing look on his face. instead of going along with his teasing, you ended up getting annoyed, the day getting worse by the second for you. "i think they got the wrong measurements for my size or something, i don't know!" you huffed angrily, a pout tugging on your lips as you look over towards him.
he held his hands out in defense, surprised by your sudden outburst as he walk over towards you. "i'm sure that this is solvable." he muttered, a hand cupping the back of your head pulling you against him, making you bury your face into his bare chest with his free hand going to wrap you up in a hug as he comforts you.
"let me see," he removes the hand on the back of your head as he reaches out for the untouched panties sitting on the vanity chair that are in the same set as the one you're wearing. he chuckled to himself when he sees the tagging on them, and you remove yourself so fast from his hold, offended. "why are you laughing?" you pushes at his chest although he doesn't budge, making you even more pissed than you already are.
"baby, you got the wrong size. it's a size smaller than you normally wear," he was laughing now, showing you the tags as he shook his head when you practically ripped them away from his hands. "but i took them from the rack—" you cut yourself off, letting out a breath of annoyance as you threw them back on the vanity chair.
rafe was still laughing, amused by the way you're actually pissed over a small mistake. he thought that you actually look cute this way—all grumpy and pouty—and it only made his smile bigger than it already is. he reaches out for you then, a hand cupping your cheek as the other went down to your arm to soothe the skin there in a way to calm you down. "take a deep breath for me, baby." he demonstrate, urging you to follow him as you do what he says.
"it's not that serious, yeah? you didn't do anything wrong," he assures you, thumb moving against your cheek making your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. "but i had a long day running errands, and i thought that i did something useful by actually getting everything done on my list in a day just for this to happen." you were rambling now, telling him the thing that's actually stressing you out. he didn't say anything then, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he listens.
and when you were finally done, you let out a sigh of relief, feeling like a weight has been lifted from your chest after telling him everything that's been bothering you the whole day. "you did something useful today, you always do. it's just an honest mistake, okay? it's not your fault they weren't doing their job right," he cooed, tilting his head to the side to look at you better.
you huffed again, "now i feel bad because we're blaming them for my mistake." as you bury your face back into his bare chest, arms snacking around him to pull him closer. he lets out a soft laugh at that, shaking his head at your antiques before making eye contact with the mirror that's facing the two of you—specifically your ass that's practically out—an idea coming up to his mind.
"well," he drags the word out as his hands that were wrapped around you are now moving down to cup your uncovered skin. "i don't actually mind seeing you like this every once in a while." he said it almost too proudly, the smirk on his face telling you more than words can explain as you pushes him away, again. he faked hurt then, a hand coming up to his chest after you had harshly pushed him away although it did nothing to him.
"seriously, rafe?" you call out, a smile threatening to tug on your lips as you look away from him, crossing your arms against your chest, "you're a freak." but it only made him smile wider, pulling you back in with both his hands on your waist.
he nudges his nose with yours, "yeah, but i'm your freak." before leaning in to kiss you, hands not staying long on your waist as they make their way down to cup your exposed ass.
♡ who needs a boyfriend when you have a best friend like rafe who lets you use him to get yourself off?
warnings: mentions of fwb, lots of dirty talk, light praise, unprotected sex, rafe being a giver before a receiver..
“are you asleep?” you whispered, snaking your hand over rafe’s shirtless form. trying to get any kind of sleep when you were next to him was deemed impossible, especially when he knew that you weren’t wearing anything underneath that pink nightdress of yours. “no, not really.” he hummed groggily, turning his body to face you. you two have had such a weird ‘best friends with benefits’ dynamic going on for so long now, there was nothing that fazed you two when it came to sleeping together in the same bed.. let alone being naked and in close proximity.
“what’s wrong?” he pulled you on top of him, your heat sitting right where you needed him the most. biting your lip, you waited for rafe to meet your gaze before it clicked for him. hiking up the sheer material of your nightdress, your best friend snaked a hand between your legs, a curse leaving his lips as he ran his fingers up and down your soaked folds. “oh, you just want your pretty hole filled, huh?” you nodded, taking him out of the confines of his underwear. “yes—” you whined, “can i please use your cock, ray?” rafe grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a kiss before doing away with your top.
“that’s what friends are for.” he whispered, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck as he slid into you. rafe took a handful of your ass, a pained mewl sounding from your mouth as he groped the flesh roughly. “get yourself off, ‘pretty, fuck yourself back to sleep.” he encouraged you, his breath tickling the side of your face as you moved on top of him. you could just cry, the mere girth of rafe’s cock stretching you open so deliciously. all he had to do was lay there and listen to your little whimpers and whines as you hiccuped your praises for him. “you f-fill me up so good!” you cried out, your nails digging into his skin.
“yeah?” he landed a harsh smack to the back of your thigh, eliciting a squeal from your lips, “is anyone else letting you use their cock like this?” you shook your head, leaving sloppy kisses along his jawline. “no, just you!” rafe knew that already, considering he had devoted most of his time to chasing off every guy who thought they could have a chance with you, he just loved hearing you confirm it for him. surprisingly enough, rafe didn’t care if you made him cum or not, he reached his climax just knowing that you counted on him to make you feel good.
“oh, fuck,” you took in a sharp breath, circling your hips so your clit met his pubic bone, “rafe!” with your ministrations faltering, you struggled to keep up with your movements, a frustrated cry echoing off the walls of his bedroom. resting his hands in the small of your back, rafe pinned you against his chest as you came undone around his cock, your tears of pure unadulterated pleasure running down his shoulder as you trembled with the force of your orgasm. rafe felt the tension in his stomach starting to coil tight as he was close to finishing himself, his jaw clenching as you shook in his arms.
thumbing away the stray tears that managed to stay on the surface of your skin, rafe brought you down from your high with a soft ‘shhhh..’ rasping through the small space. his hands cupped your face, both of you exchanging a look before you slid off of him with a hiss. fully expecting to just hold you close and call it a night, rafe looked down at you with confusion as you laid down on your tummy between his thighs. “w-what are you doing?” he asked, swallowing thickly once you batted your lashes up at him. “what kind of friend would i be without returning the favor?”
thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
♡ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 . @rafecamerons - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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