rafe needs someone who is willing to cut through his walls, that person is always you…
showing up at barry’s, you had no idea what to expect. probably liquor leaking off his breath, cocaine counters, his dilated eyes… you knew he would put up a fight, but you are the only one who could get through to him.
rafe’s family had called you worried… they assumed he would be with you, but you haven’t spoken since a fight broke out at a party. you were hoping he would clear his head within a couple days, reach out with regrets, but that didn’t happen. you know rafe well enough to know that his silence could only mean one thing— that he is spiraling.
“he’s in the back,” barry says with a knowing look in his eyes. he knows better than to get between you two, for that you’re grateful. “i’ll be in here far away. just don’t let me come out to a dead body… i ain’t cleaning that shit.”
you find rafe sprawled out on the back couch, making your stomach drop when making eye contact with his bloodshot eyes. you knew what to expect but it still stings. by just a glance at the flavor, you know the whiskey bottle on the table is his. however the look at his face tells you how deep he is about to bury himself in denial.
“let me guess… you were sent here for some dramatic rescue mission.” rafe says rolling his eyes. trying not to let frustration get the best of you here, you bite your tongue.
“nope… they did call me, but i came on my own.” you say trying to keep your composure. you fiddle with the little ziploc bag on the table, not surprised that it’s empty.
“if you came for a purchase, we’re all out of stock. sorry to disappoint.” he smirks at his own joke.
“yeah, cause i clearly came hoping for a discount… i came because i care about you.” you scoff.
“don’t you have maybank to go worry about? seemed real worried last night…” rafe scoffs, in reference to yesterday’s fight. he gets extremely jealous of jj. you’re not surprised he twisted your attempt at breaking up the fight into this.
“i didn’t want you to end up in jail, rafe. i thought you were gonna kill the fucking kid. you have eyes on you right now with everything going on. i’m pretty sure you murdering a pogue wouldn’t go over well.” you defend.
avoiding eye contact, you glance down noticing rafe’s knuckle, bruised with the faint stain of dried blood still visible from the party. without saying a word, you grab a clean cloth from the cluttered counter.
you kneel in front of him, dabbing at the wounds as he watches you with confused eyes. he talks a big bark, but when it comes to you this close to him he can’t help but surrender. the gentle of your touch manages to break through the anger he’s trapped himself in.
“i don’t know why you care so much…” he finally admits, breaking the silent intimacy. his voice is much softer without the sound of his ego.
“about your hand? i guess if you really want to beat people up, you can’t let it get infected…” you joke in reference to his fight. as much as he tries to hide it, you finally win a laugh from him.
“about me, you asshole.” he retaliates, still wearing a small grin on his face from your sarcasm.
“the world sucks enough. i’m not trying to deal with it without you,” you admit. as frustrated at him as you are, you know why you still show up for him. “that enough for you, or are you gonna ask for my vows next?”
“i’m sure you have those written out somewhere already, so yeah. i’ll take em.” he snickers as you give him a playful shove. you anticipate a push back, but instead his hands snake around you pulling you closer into a hug. you oblige getting comfortable in his grip. he rests his head on your shoulder without saying a word. he doesn’t have to.
it’s silent. for the first time in days, his mind is finally silent too.
rafe helps best friend reader pick out a halloween costume over the phone…
18+ content: smut implied, talk of masturbation, pet names, bunny costume reader
“but rafe! i don’t know what to wear.” you whine dramatically into the phone, throwing another outfit off on the ground.
“alright miss drama queen… calm down. walk me through your options again.” rafe says, attempting to not laugh at your hissy fit afraid to only make it worse. you can still hear his smirk through the phone.
“i told you already, rafe. you don’t listen to me. vampire with the black dress but that’s too boring… a devil but i can’t find anything red i like… i have an old maid costume which hardly fits me– my boobs keep falling out the top.” you huff, beginning to get fussy with him. you’re not sure why but you expect him to be able to fix your problems.
“cut the attitude, y/n. forgive me for not being able to keep up with your very serious problem here. don’t you have bunny ears?” he asks, remembering a time you drunkenly put them on in front of him showing off your closet of teeny skirts & random accessories.
you’re silent for a minute, before he hears you shuffling through your closet. he knows you found them when he hears you delighted “aha! gotcha” talking to yourself.
“update me, sweetheart. what’s it looking like?” he asks, as he can hear you bouncing around trying things on. he looks at his texts to see you sent a mirror selfie, of your bunny ears with a corset top & mini skirt. he can’t help but zoom into the little skirt, admiring the little sneak peak of your ass, feeling himself grow under his jeans. the little face you make sticking your tongue out for the camera, knowing you did that just to show him. “yeah… that’s the winner, y/n.”
“you’re a genius. i ever tell you that? sorry for being so grumpy, rafey.” you huff. he doesn’t know if it’s the photo or how much you rely on him for approval like this, but the sound of your sweet voice saying ‘rafey’ through the phone starts to make his cock so hard now.
“it’s okay, princess. think i’m used to ya by now.” he says distractedly, still eyeing your photo. you hear the shuffling of his belt buckle and can’t help yourself but send another one… this time with just the bralette you had on underneath.
“what about this top, rafey? think it’s too much… matches better though.” you ask sweetly, hearing his pleasured sigh through the speaker. your thighs ache wishing you wear there to play with his cock for him.
“you’re such a tease, y/n… can’t even see the fuckin’ color.” he groans, making your giggle content with yourself. you eye the little box under your bed that holds your vibrator, contemplating before asking instead.
“well, i’m home alone for another hour… if you wanna, come help me… see the colors better?” you suggest.
“i’ll be there in five.” he says immediately, without thinking twice.
“but you live like twenty minutes away, how–“ you question.
rafe cameron x best friend reader (kinktober smut)
18+ y/n wears a “naughty school girl” costume to the halloween party, just so rafe could rip it off her in his truck…
rafe has spent most of the night biting on his lip to keep his composure, you’re surprised it’s not bleeding by now…
you knew showing up in this little outfit would send him spiraling, but you’re thriving off the adrenaline knowing you have him in the palm of your hands tonight. downing drinks knowing he won’t dare take them away from you right now, dancing the night with your friends, keeping your eye on him with every move of your hips.
“but i was having fun–” you whine now being pulled to his truck. grinding on him one too many times has made him impatient now.
“yeah, i was there… you had so much fun. now it’s my turn.” he says as he opens the backseat door for you instead of the front. you don’t ask questions crawling inside, as he’s quick behind you.
he wastes no time as he quickly yanks your skirt up, tugging at the tiny panties hardly covering underneath. “you wear this pretty little thing for daddy, huh? wanted to remind me what a little slut you are? how could i forget…” he says, his fingers toying with your dripping cunt. it’s already soaked from grinding on him all night, feeling his hard cock along your back side. you giggle, grinding your hips back towards him desperately.
“whatcha smiling about, sweet thing? think you were good enough to get my cock? i don’t know… you were pretty bad… they don’t even know you’re mine, and you knew guys were watching you. probably why this cunt is dripping right now…” he teases, moving his hand so slowly that your clit is beginning to ache.
“no, no. please, daddy– just wanted your attention… i need it, daddy!” you start to fuss, getting desperate at his slow torture. he chuckles at your whiney reaction and your pathetic attempts at pushing back on him.
before you know it, you’re on his lap with your skirt lifted high as his cock is pushed deep into you with no mercy. “such a little fucking brat. you always get your way, huh? look at that filthy smile on ya— just needed to bounce on daddy’s cock.”
“y-yes, daddy. ah– thank you. t-thank you.” you whimper out, his tip smashing into your cervix making you squeal out at every thrust. his hands are gripped tight on your ass, helping you bounce up and down. you hardly have to do the work while he fucks up into you, sending you shaking. after waiting all night, he made sure you’re going to learn your lesson and has no plans to be gentle.
“that’s it, baby. that’s daddy’s good little girl. let daddy feel your cum on his cock, sweetheart. show daddy how good you are.” he demands, sending you spiraling into bliss. your vision going black with stars and losing strength in your body, as he continues to keep you moving. every thrust hitting your sensitive shaking walls with no empathy for a break.
“you want daddy’s cum, sweetheart? beg me.” he instructs, gripping his big hands around your throat. his eyes in awe at your doe eyes all fucked out, looking at him like you would do anything he told you.
“please, daddy… please fill me up with your cum. i’ve worked so hard for it… i’ve earned it, daddy.” you plead, before being met with the feeling of him throbbing inside you and spilling hot cum in your stretched out pussy.
“that’s m’girl… daddy’s good girl…” he groans out softly, crashing his head down into the crook of your neck devouring your skin with kisses as he catches his breath.
rafe showing up with blood left on him… his best friend y/n thinking it’s from a halloween costume.
content: soft, sweet, naive & innocent version of best friend reader
you were upstairs in rafe’s bed, waiting for him to come back. it was normal to just let you in when he’s expecting you. he invited you to come over later tonight than usual, but lost complete track of the time.
“i thought you weren’t going to the costume party? i would’ve met you there…” you pout when he comes in, looking at the blood stains on him.
“w-what? oh. this. yeah, i… was helping wheezie get ready with her costume. popped open the bottle the wrong way.” he responds, trying to act as normal as possible. he really did help her earlier but with fake blood, but definitely not as much as this.
“oh, right… what was she gonna be again?” you question.
“vampire.” he responds quickly, almost planned. you nod in response… he can tell you’re overthinking something about this.
“what’s that movie again?” he blurts out, thinking of anything to distract you as he changes his shirt and throws his shoes aside. not to his laundry or his wardrobe, but intentionally separated from everything else to dispose of for evidence purposes, but his conversation is keeping you entertained.
“twilight? yeah… was a big thing. i was kind of into it… don’t ask. kinda embarrassing actually…” you admit, falling for his bait to keep rambling on. but he doesn’t respond as he’s clearly lost his train of thought. you can’t help but feel insecure still about tonight.
“do you not want me here or something? i can go.” you sigh. he quickly changes his demeanor, panicked at the thought of you thinking that. he finally realizes that’s what you’re really overthinking about right now: not even suspecting what he just did. you’re really just focused on his attention.
“no, no… sweetheart that’s not it at all. i want you here, more than anything…” he says, meeting you at the bed now. you in his bed like this might just take priority for a minute.
“i just… i wanted to go tonight… thought you didn’t want to go, specifically with me.” you admit shyly with a frown. the expression of his face feels with remorse, not about what he did but that he’d ever make his favorite girl worry.
“something came up with my dad. i swear, sweetheart. i swear thursday we will go, okay? it’s halloween night. that’s the real thing anyway.” he assures making you sigh in relief. he wasn’t lying, he just didn’t specify what it was that came up. he just wants you to never think he would go without you.
“besides, i’m looking forward to seeing this pretty body in a costume. you know i’d never miss that.” he says with a wink, making you giggle as he snakes his hand along your skin.
you blabber on about the halloween and the party coming up, no longer overthinking your brain away. with his eyes focused on your excitement about the holiday, giggling away with different ideas…
he watches you twiddling your hands nervous to about one last thing, decides to take it upon himself… “you want to match costumes?”
“oh no- if it’s too much rafe, i totally understand. there’s gonna be a lot of girls—“ you mumble out shyly.
“pick what you wanna do. i’m in.” he says with a soft smile, watching the excitement in your eyes.
your rambling on with matching ideas lets him clean up his stuff responding with “mhm” “sounds cool, sweetheart” over and over as you’re fully amused, before coming back to lay in bed with the happiest girl.
rafe wearing a ghostface mask at a costume party, shocking his best friend out back… happy kinktober! stay tuned.
18+ content: smut, rough, dark themed, talk of violence / murder, knife play (no blood or actual harming), rafe’s “dark side” played into, jealous references, outside sex, dominance & control
you told your friends you were just running to the bathroom, but your drunken ditzy mind is taking in the sight of the house you’re at. much farther out from the crowd than you anticipated and carelessly alone… but you don’t mind a few minutes away from the loud music and tipsy kooks, so you take your time doing a lap outside this stranger’s mansion.
the sound of crickets become louder than the music in the distance now. the only other sound being your heels stumbling along the pavement. the quiet starts to feel eery realizing you’re alone on the other side, but maybe it’s just the nerves that it’s halloween.
in the backyard you hear a slight shuffle around the bushes, making you look back startled. now it hits you you’re just a girl by herself, far enough from the party that no one can hear or see you. it’s probably harmless. still… you reach into your purse to sneak a pocket knife in your hand.
now the sound becomes more clear, when the second you turn around it picks up again… you turn around abruptly meeting face to face with a familiar mask.
“cool mask…” you say catching your breath, hoping for a laugh or emotion to come from the figure to comfort you. yet the silence is piercing. your heart feels like it’s dropped to your stomach at the sight of ghostface just staring at you, alone behind the back of this place.
“it’s uh… ghostface? right?” you nervously blurt out to try to end this tension. you know who ghostface is, it’s your favorite horror movie. but you’ll don’t even know what to do to end this tension. you hide the pocket knife in the palm of your hand, but hold your thumb on the lever ready to pop it open.
you receive a silent nod, which is enough to make you stop holding your breath. something about it reminds you there’s just a person under there. naively letting your guard down, you go to walk around them to get back to the party.
they go to stop you by placing a gloved hand on your arm. your reflexes aren’t as fast, as they slam you against the wall of the house… swiftly hitting your wrist to catch the knife falling out of your hand.
your heart is beating so hard out of your chest, that you almost miss the sound of a familiar laugh under the mask. “rafe, you motherfucker–” you start to attempt to shove him off you but he still keeps his strong grip on you. he lifts the mask off, you’re relieved by the sight of your now messy haired best friend.
“you should’ve seen your face…” he says, still unable to control his laughter.
“you’re just so funny…” you huff sarcastically. the feeling of his gloved hands still holding on to your body, back against the wall.
“c’mon, doll. don’t be mad at me now…” he teases, at least making you break your pout into a smile.
“okay, lemme go now.” you push back once more, being pressed harder. you know you don’t want to move away from him, not at all actually as you’re enjoying being pinned against him… but you’re confused at what he’s doing.
“nah… hold on. this?” he says with a grin, flicking open your pocket knife in front of your face... “rookie mistake. your grip is usually a lot better than that.” he says with a wink.
“secondly… don’t flirt with random people dressed as serial killers, weirdo.” he teases. “huh–” you object.
“it’s uh… ghostface, right?” he mocks in a higher pitched voice to mimic yours, dangerously close to your face now. his condescending tone and look to him right now, sending shivers down your spine.
you try to laugh but really your thighs are aching at his control. “i-i was afraid.” you say shyly, cheeks turning hot.
“mhm… you afraid right now?” he asks, flipping his ghostface mask back on. you shake your head no, although you won’t admit you’re desperate in a much different way.
he sneaks his hands along your waist, the fabric on his fingers warmly gracing your skin. you realize you’re not getting out of his grip, likely followed you back here with this plan in mind.
“you’re crazy coming back here alone… someone’s gonna chop up this pretty little body into tiny pieces.” he whispers in your ear, now dragging the small knife along the fabric of your shirt. not hard enough to cut it, but enough to make you let out a desperate sigh at the concept. you’d think he was playing into a character- but he doesn’t wince when he speaks, the words coming out effortlessly.
“r-rafe…” you whine. you’ve went from pushing against him in attempt to push him off, to now moving your hips against his trying to gain more friction. he doesn’t respond as he starts to unbutton your pants. sneaking the gloved hand inside, grazing his fingers along your now soaking wet folds.
“afraid now?” he teases, voice muffled under the mask as he plays with your pussy.
“p-please.” you whimper out. if it wasn’t for how wet you were, you wouldn’t be able to tell if you were terrified or in need of him, based on the tone of your voice. you couldn’t tell whether you were begging to be fucked, or begging not to be cut open.
so distracted you forget you’re outside… although with people so far away, it would only take one nosey person like you were doing to find you. the most you’re saved with is the bushes guarding where you are, not that that’s much.
“what if someone comes back here?” you ask. he has zero response, impossible to read his expression with the mask. all he does is motion the little knife still in his hand… before you’re able to question the suggestion, he pushes inside you without any warning. your gasp is muffled by the gloved hand quickly forced over your mouth.
“you’re crazy for this… letting me fuck around with you like this… you’re just like me, the way you think… there’s a reason we get along so well.” he whispers breathily between thrusts, nibbling harshly along your lobe making you yelp at the harsh bites. you can’t tell if he’s breaking skin but it sure feels like it.
part of you wants to know what he means when he rambles on like this. you know the dark side to how he thinks, but never the details. you’ve wrapped your best friend’s bruised knuckles without asking questions. you know he’s right about you too, because this thought just sickly adds to the feeling clenching in your stomach as he fucks you.
you cry out into his hand, head rolling back against the house in pleasure. his grip on you is tight making you bang against the wall behind you with each thrust, the movement ensuring his cock hits your cervix repeatedly. he can hardly hear you but can still make out the covered “r-rafe–” whimpers.
“might just use this to carve out those pathetic pogues eye fucking you all night… thinking they’re worthy of a pretty little cunt like this.” he says in reference to the knife. unable to see his face, but know he’s close by his movements getting more aggressive but sloppier. you nod in agreement, only bringing him closer.
“y’know, i’d do it… do anything for you. i know you’d do it for me.” he groans. the sound of your soaking wet pussy being fucked feels so much louder in the silence.
“you’re close.” he tells you, feeling your pussy clench. it sounds like he knows your insides better than your own. he’s not wrong as your eyes are fluttering shut, he picks up the pace to send you shaking in orgasm. he follows quickly behind you, feeling his cock twitching and filling you up with warm cum.
both catching your breath, he pulls off the mask resting his heated face against the crook of your neck. you can’t help but smile knowing the smirk that’s likely on his face too.
rafe situates himself and you, helping you pull your skirt back in place. he chuckles once more as he puts your pocket knife back in your purse. “gotta get you a better one of these and i’ll teach you how to actually use the damn thing…”
rafe and best friend reader’s playful banter, is everything…
lots of wrestling… at first he was so scared to hurt you. you were so delicate and he knows how aggressive he can be. but after enough tugging at his arm, even daring to antagonize him after you’ve seen his worst… “oh, okay. you’re asking for it now… it’s fucking on.”
a girl giving you guys a weird glare after pulling on each others arms and not sure if she should be concerned … topper having to explain “oh you’re new here. they’re just playing. they do that. he will let her win in like, 60 seconds max…”
yelping out “ouch” to make him stop in his tracks, just to laugh at how fast his eyes filled with worry … “aw, see you do love me rafey” you’d tease, only to get pinned back down. “was gonna let you win but now you’re absolutely fucked.” “promise?”
your friends sometimes can’t make out if you’re rough playing or fucking in the other room, and honestly neither surprise them.
playful bickering about literally everything… “i don’t think tomatoes should be a fruit.” “rafe, the fuck do you know about fruits?”
“i just love to push your buttons.” “i’m going to push you off a literal bridge if you keep this up, rafe.”
the dumbest inside jokes ever… enough said.
rafe’s dark humor is wild… “that’s not fucking funny, rafe. cut it out.” with proceeded awkward silence until you can’t help but break laughing.
calling him daddy in public just to fuck with him: both to embarrass him and enjoying turning him on. being in a public shop, “daddy, can i get this?” “y/n, shut the fuck—“ “please daddy.”
and of COURSE sarcastic jokes to make each other jealous…
“do you think that guy is into me?” “a knife is about to be if you don’t shut the fuck up about it.” “… is that a no?”
posting drunk videos & photos of you on his story because he genuinely thinks you’re adorable, but loves to watch you fight him for his phone to delete it… “i swear to god. delete me looking like a fucking minion right now–” “that’s one hot minion.”
and your favorite insult for him. “it’s giving… pogue.” “oh, i’m absolutely going to fuckin’ kill you in your sleep.”
the toxic side of rafe loves to rile up his best friend, just for those desperate and jealous hookups… (18+)
“thought we were keeping quiet about this…” he teases with a devilish grin as your mouth is marking possessively along his neck. you huff pulling back in protest, before he quickly yanks you right back. “cut that shit out. m’just teasing y/n” he demands, his way of begging you to continue… letting out a breathy groan as you bite along his skin again.
he loves to watch you get on your knees like you have a point to prove… his cock harder than ever watching you get fired up all night, now stuffing it down your throat like candy. working so hard for the words falling out of his hung open mouth “that’s my good girl, fuck… just like that…”
he refuses to cum down your throat, wanting to practically mark you as territory as he had to watch you grind up on a guy- the whole time he’s only able to think she’s fucking in for it. rubbing his spit covered cock along your pussy to make you wait “want me so bad, huh?” he’d tease, receiving a “shut up and fuck me, rafe” in return.
thrusting so hard in and out of you like you’re a toy… your face pressed against his bed sheets, smearing makeup from your watery pleasured eyes. “not talking back now that you got cock in you, huh? all you fuckin needed to stop being a bitch tonight?” he spits, knowing he can keep pushing you and you’ll just cum at his words. you just pathetically nod in pleasure. “that’s it, baby… lemme have it. cum on my cock. it’s all yours.”
being around kooks especially the oversaturated dinner parties, leads to a lot of overwhelming conversations. “when do you plan on settling down?” “are you going for a degree?” “what age do you want to have kids? the clock is always ticking for us women y’know.”
( oh, and when you get to hear his personal favorite from random family friends “what about the cameron’s boy? you guys are really close. he seems like a gentleman for you.” )
being around you at these things all the time, he noticed the change in your face when you get anxious: you pouring extra champagne, a stutter in your words, gulping with dry mouth…
at midsommar’s, he noticed you missing for a bit. he found you hiding in a stairwell with a whole bottle of wine you stole from a waiter.
“are you here to rat me out to my parents?”
“not if you give me a sip.”
after a bit of sitting together, you’d finally open up about how you don’t want to sit at the table with your family any longer. the overwhelming stress of family drama at the moment, flares your anxiety.
“how about we go sit for a few minutes? i’ll come with you. they won’t say as much if i’m there, right? if you get stressed just look at me… i can help change the subject… so you just try to enjoy a couple more minutes, let them see you exist, then i will steal us another bottle and take you back to hide at my place for the night. sound okay?”
and that he did… you came back to the table, delighted when the conversation was all about rafe’s family.
“oh, your dad has always been so lovely to us over the years. how’s the youngest? she must be so big now.”
“that’s my wheezie. she must be around here somewhere, probably should find her soon. she’s getting to be that age. y’know she wants to be a doctor when she grows up?”
he would ramble on about any impressive subject he could. you could see the glances from your family, practically could read their minds realizing your best friend is such a catch.
to ease your nerves, he put his hand in your lap under the table. you were a bit taken back at first until he just let his hand rest weakly on yours. you wanted to hold it, but is that what he was suggesting? you just started fidgeting with his rings mindlessly, tracing your fingers along his big palms, distracting you away from all the noise. your eyes just focused on how big his palms are, the feeling of the cold metal of his rings, the room just felt much quieter.
once he saw how focused he got you with the stimulating distraction, this quickly became your thing…
“you’re wearing a new one, rafey!”
“yeah, thought you’d like that one. look at all the little lines on it.”
until the day you realized he was wearing one that spins around, a real anxiety fidget ring… he thought about buying it for you, but he honestly loves that you need him. he made the excuse it just wasn’t in your size.
“oh no. am i breaking it? why is it-”
“no. it’s meant to spin. isn’t it fun?”
as he watches you giggle twirling it around.. pure amusement in your eyes. as he watches people ramble on about the most meaningless and superficial conversations filling the room, it’s just you in his palm tracing his skin and focused on some spinning metal.
the day he eventually got you one of your own, is when he knew you were going away on a trip for a few days. he knew your anxiety was through the roof already as you nervously rambled all the time about how you’re going to deal with being homesick and trapped with your family.
he came over to keep you company while you packed, so he was able to slip something in your bag. you should’ve realized you were missing a ring last week, that he stole from your room to find the size.
when you got there, you find a little gift bag you don’t recognize. inside is a little fidget ring of your own, much nicer than the cheap gift shop one he had. you are mentally already murdering him at the fact he clearly bought you real gold.
you can’t help but blush to yourself when you twirl it around, to see rafe engraved on it. you pull out the card, giggling at his handwriting—
for my favorite anxious girl… you’ll be back soon.
ps: i have a matching one :) well except it says, y/n… not rafe… that’d be kinda weird.
rafe being so physically affectionate to best friend reader…
it was a confusing craving for him to understand at first, because he’s never been the physical affection type. it started with moments of little contact… like helping brush your hair out of your face, then realizing he loves the warm of your face in his hands.
now he loves to randomly cup your cheeks to talk to you, always making you giggle knowing your blushing skin must be turning hot in his hands. you can tell they do when you feel his thumb tracing your cheeks, while he is in awe how he’s capable of doing this to you.
in the carolina heat, always asking him to do your sunscreen on a beach day with your friend group, has now lead him to find any excuse to do it… just to be able to lather it all along your soft skin. bonus points it’s in front of the guys staring at your bikini.
“sun is blazing, doll. can’t let you get all burned up now… where’s your sunscreen?”
being extremely protective over you at parties… his large palm always on your back or hip, holding your hand to lead you if you’re walking through big crowds.
“having a hot best friend is hard work… playing security all the time and stuff y’know.”
“i’m a big girl. can handle myself, rafe.”
“mhm. sure.”
randomly kissing your cheek at a kook dinner party, making you giggle at the sudden surprise of sweetness…
“why’re you being so sweet tonight, rafey?“
“you just look really pretty tonight. that’s all. god, y/n… can i not think my best friend looks pretty?”
once you started tickling his head, it never stopped. one night he drunkenly laid on your lap on the couch, so you soothed your fingers over his scalp watching him relax from the spinning room. letting him flutter his eyes shut and let out the softest “mhph” every so often. now he does it every time people are pissing him off in group settings, only wants to walk away and lay with you.
sometimes you guys will lay in his room, as he rambles about how fucked up his family is. you’ll trace little shapes along the skin of his back, until he falls asleep. his muscles start out blazing hot with stress, until he melts in your arms.
“lucky to have you.” he’d randomly mumble, until he drifts off to sleep.
rafe was never able to trust anyone until best friend reader —
rafe being “closed off” is an understatement, and for some reason with y/n things were much different.
it started in small moments. drunk on a porch at a party making small talk. you were the first person to make him feel like you didn’t want or expect something out of him. so he randomly would drop little bits of his life. “just long day with my dad and sister. family stuff, y’know.”
now you’d lay in his bed, sleepy eyed listening to his manic rambles on and on about god knows what disaster he got himself into. just nodding and mhm-ing until he feels better.
“just be careful, rafey” you’d huff when things got scary. this was all he ever really needed, was someone to listen and care. he didn’t need to be lectured how fucked in the head he was, because he knew that already. he needed a reason not to be. when you do chime in: he feels like you see clearly where he’s foggy, and your advice is the only he would ever take from anyone.
when driving himself nuts looking for the last piece to his problems… you would always have something for him. he knows there’s a reason he’s so drawn to you…
“if it’s not in the crain house, anyone ever try looking underground? i mean if that was my gold, i would hide that shit real well like under–” you’d ramble on. he would cut you off with an abrupt harsh kiss on the mouth, with nothing left to say but “i’ll be right back. stay here.”
content: smut, rough sex, mentions of substance use, angry rafe, name calling, choking, etc.
a bar, a fight, a few too many lines of cocaine… that’s all it takes for rafe to have you in the backseat of his truck, off road in the wooded area. as much as really he doesn’t give a fuck if anyone could see you right now, but he did his best so he doesn’t hear you cry about it.
“c’mon, let’s get out of here. take it out on me, rafey…” you mumbled in his ear at the bar, tugging at his arm. this caught his coked out gaze so fast, and his usual stubborn self grabbed his keys immediately.
now you’re on your hands and knees in his backseat, the hot leather digging into your skin… his make shift ponytail holding your hair yanking your neck back… he’s teasing you with his cock against your already swollen cunt from him playing with it.
“look at you… willing to let your best friend rail you anywhere, huh? your friends know you let me do this to you?” rafe growls in your ear, biting hard along your shoulder.
“p-please, rafe.” you plead, as you feel his tip teasing slightly into your entrance. pushing your hips back towards him won’t work, as his grip on you is so much stronger and you wouldn’t dare disobey him right now.
he suddenly thrusts his cock hard into you, leaving you no time to adjust around him. you cry out immediately, praying all the windows are closed.
“fuck— baby… your pussy is so fuckin tight. guess i gotta start stretching it out more, huh? that’s it…” he grunts into you. “look at my filthy pretty girl, taking cock so good. just like i taught ya.” he growls, as you whine out at every thrust. he lets go of the grip of your hair to slide his hand around your neck, choking you with every thrust making you cough out.
“shhh, shhh. daddy’s not gonna hurt you… has he ever hurt you? maybe a little… nothing you didn’t love though…” he chuckles in response to your cough, seeing the water drops fill your eyes instinctively, easing his grip lightly but still enough to yank you back every thrust.
“don’t cry. y’know i love that shit.” he teases at your eyes, picking up the speed of his thrusts just watching you. he slams his hard cock into your cervix, over and over, until he starts to see your thighs squirm. he begins to play your clit, still sensitive from earlier, making you cry out against the leather seat.
“we’re not doin anything wrong baby. just using my girl, just like she likes it…” he reassures you, as he notices you tense up when a car is in sight. he doesn’t shy away from his movements, if anything you feel them getting rougher and his need for more dominance kicking in.
he doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied with your drained body. he mumbles a half coherent “that’s m’girl, take it” in your ear as he fills you up with his hot cum, leaving you used by him like you promised him.
it’s always “why aren’t y/n and rafe together yet” …
have we forgotten rafe cameron is the world’s biggest self sabotager?
he is the guy who missed his shot on new year’s to be your midnight kiss, because he was held up somewhere trying to get the cross. you’d never admit to him you had hoped he was around and didn’t kiss anyone in his place. he would never admit to you that half of the reason he would even want the gold and cross isn’t just to impress his father, but you.
he gets caught up in his lies. such as when he tells you he’s at barry’s, when he’s really on his own mission you would not be happy about. he is so in his own plan, that he fails to realize your location is literally at barry’s.
his jealousy gets in the way often… he has no problem causing problems when he’s late to a party and finds you with the pogues. “incapable of being loyal, you fit right in with them…” “how are you going to talk about loyal when you didn’t even show up until now?”
he starts to hide the coke, because he doesn’t want you doing it too. he knows the way you two can drink like fish, the few nights you guys have gotten so high together… it looks like something much different to you, when he’s MIA in the bathroom at parties. you’re too afraid to question it.
he feels guilty when he watches your hands get bloody for him, and even more guilty when he realizes how in a fucked up way: he loves the blood on your hands.
he was taught to man up and that men don’t open up their feelings. when he’s around you he either spills his guts, or closes off entirely. he will bite his tongue too far to not snap and push you away.
he knows how mad he can get… and he feels the blood boil when he sees you with the pogues when he’s not hanging out as much. he can’t handle the day he snaps at you and you don’t come back, so that means ignoring your call a couple nights. you also won’t admit to him you’re only calling because you’re worried sick & know him like the back of your hand to know something’s up.
there’s was nothing rafe was ever afraid of, until the thought of losing you.
if biting his tongue at the aching feeling everytime someone says you’re single, means keeping you safe, then he will bite it until it bleeds.
rafe meets y/n at the party a bit late… providing her tequila and an attitude adjustment.
18+ content: smut, alcohol, non-con mention because they’re drunk & “taking advantage” is referenced, rafe’s substance use, choking, oral, etc.
the beginning of this house party dragged without rafe, only a few of your friends around… as the proclaimed party princess of the kooks, you hate to admit that. on top of the stress he’s brought with the gold nonsense this week, his last minute notice really was the icing on the cake to kick in your attitude.
rafe: be there in 20. had something to finish up. don’t drink without me
you more than ever want to reply to that text instigating a fight, but you leave it as a “👍” in which you hope the sarcasm comes across…
it’s much longer than 20 minutes later when rafe finally arrives. “don’t steal my partner. she’s actually good at it.” topper jokes, seeing rafe approach the beer pong table. you shake your head, with full intentions to carry on the game.
“gimme thirty seconds with her…” rafe says, grabbing you to pull you aside and not really giving you a say in the matter.
“i think we’d all enjoy thirty seconds with h– with you, rafe. with you!” topper begins to joke, but change his mind the second he sees his violent stare as it doesn’t seem rafe is in a joking mood.
the second you two are away from the crowd, you see the distress in his eyes explaining why he didn’t bother to respond to topper’s banter. you can already tell he’s on edge, and you’re not surprised after the week you’ve both had in his life.
“sarah knows my dad is back…” rafe spills, leaving you unamused by more family drama at this particular moment. as he’s rambling on, you can only focus on the ivory residue lingering around his nostril.
“so you went to barry’s?” you interrupt him, catching him off guard with your tone. it’s in this moment he realizes you’re just as tipsy, as he is coming down from a high.
“who have you been drinking with?” he rejects your question with his own, his voice turning cold.
“you rudely removed me from beer pong, remember?” you say.
“nah… you make other people drink your cups, you hate beer. that’s some tequila or some shit on you.” rafe rolls his eyes.
“that was one time i did that… but okay, and? your point? not like you were sharing what you got, clearly… i can have a damn drink.” you argue. you leave out the part that you already knew it would piss him off and are kind of okay with it.
“jesus christ– just because i needed coke does not mean you have to.” he snaps back.
“you could’ve at least asked instead of acting like you were doing something of importance.” you huff.
“fine. you wanna put more shit in your body? not in the mood so yeah, let’s drink.” rafe snaps back. he quickly grabs a random full liquor bottle from behind him, popping off the cap. he makes a nodding motion towards your mouth, leaving you confused for a second.
“are you serious?” you can’t help but say with a laugh, taken back by him.
“what? are you a pussy now?” he teases, now speaking back in the comforting tone of your best friend. now you can’t really say no to that.
you quickly open your mouth allowing him to pour the alcohol down your throat, recognizing the familiar tequila taste from earlier. you push him back when you’re done, spilling a little on both of you, leaving you both finally laughing after the long day.
“c’mon… let’s go have fun then. i mean it. we both need it.” rafe says with a softer tone.
and that, you did. that tequila bottle makes its way around the party with you two. randomly pouring shots in your mouth, is nothing new with you two. so it’s hard to even catch the moment where your vision is now a bit blurry compared to earlier.
“one more… m’having fun.” you groan, reaching for the tequila bottle he’s now moved away from you. in your drunken state, he’s made sure to guard you by his side in the room of people.
“usually i tell you no by now… but like i said, we’re gonna have fun. open up baby.” he says, grabbing the bottle to pour one last shot into your mouth. even drunk, your heart still kicks at the random nickname.
“you better still open this mouth f’me later…” he mumbles in your ear, as you swallow the alcohol and he runs his thumb over your dripping lip. you drunkenly giggle now, clueless to how fucked you will be later. literally.
you hardly remember the drive here, apart from brief flashes of your liquid courage… rubbing your hand along his jeans from the passenger seat. you remember fucking with the radio for a moment driving him nuts when you’re drunk, but he was quickly amused with your seductive dancing to britney spears.
now… the once full tequila bottle remains empty on his bedside, your lipstick stained around the rim. he’s helping you change into his clothes which in other words, sliding your dress off with his rough hands and whispering in your ear. “acting up in the car and shit… you’re lucky i didn’t fuck you on the side of the road.”
“can’t… help m’self” you hiccup out, in a drunken daze. he holds your face in his hands, pulling your chin up to look up at him.
“tequila just makes you so desperate, doesn’t it? that’s why it’s so hard to get you to stop… knowing i get to see these pretty little doll eyes later… ” he says, keeping one hand on your chin and the other to slide in your panties. you immediately gasp out at the contact.
“you gotta be careful, sweetheart. one of these other guys might take advantage of you. only i can do that.” he chuckles. his grip on your jaw tightens and his fingers make their way inside you with no warning, knowing you’ve already been wet for hours.
“these other guys… they don’t know you like i do. y’know i always take good care of you, always have your best interest… right?” he goes on, receiving a pathetic nod from you. you can’t help but let out deep breathes as he thrusts his fingers in and out so slowly.
you whine the second he takes his fingers out of you, receiving a punishing slap on the ass. “maybe shouldn’t of started drinking without me.”
as he pulls his cock out, he pulls you to it with a familiar sound “open up.” you waste no time, spitting down his length and taking him into your mouth. you hear his deep breathing as you sloppily bob your head up and down, gurgling at his dick hitting the back of your throat. he has one hand is gripped in your hair, and the other reaches around you to play with your ass.
“such a good girl… you’re so fucked up and you still know how to take it down.” he groans in pleasure, getting more and more turned on at the filthy sound of you taking every inch of him with no hesitation. he uses your mouth to his liking for a moment, before flipping you under him to fuck you senseless.
before you know it, he’s buried inside of you… the sound of your slurring sounds and his cock slamming into you filling the room. your little moans as he hits deep, are like sweet music to his ears, making him try not to smirk at every squeal.
“you gonna blame the tequila tomorrow? gonna act like you don’t love getting fucked by your best friend?” he growls, leaving a sweet kiss on your shoulder and holding your hand down against the bed.
“right there, r-rafey.” you cry out, too in a daze to respond to him. he doesn’t mind, as he does right as you ask- making sure to slam into every spot of you that makes you whimper for him. his grunts get louder as he watches your face pressed against the bed, and your body shiver at his thrusts. watching what he does to you is all he needs to get off, let alone the feeling of being inside you after you drove him crazy in that dress all night.
the second he notices you’re close… he roughly wraps his hands around your throat to choke you, the sudden movement of being at his control, quickly sending you over the edge. he carries you through your orgasm, not slowing down. after a few moments of letting you ride out the feeling, he quickly pulls out and pulls you around to face him.
before you can say anything, your face is met with his throbbing cock, ready to burst, desperate to finish in your sweet mouth… “open up.”
snowghoul
blakekathryn
tangentwithtanner
theartofmadeline
titsay
germansingergirl
