rafe loves spitting because it’s a display of control. it’s not just about the act itself, it’s about watching the way your lips part, the way your breath hitches when he tilts your chin up, thumb dragging across your bottom lip before he lets a slow stream of spit drip onto your tongue. "swallow it," he murmurs, and his smirk only grows when you obey.
he spits when he’s pissed, too. not just at you, but in general. if he’s in a fight, he’ll spit blood onto the pavement, jaw clenched, eyes blazing. if someone looks at you wrong, he’ll spit at their feet like it’s his way of saying you’re his, untouchable. and if he’s really pissed at you? he’ll do it after a particularly rough fuck, gripping your jaw so tight it aches before he spits in your mouth, daring you to act like you don’t love it.
he has a thing for spitting on your cunt before he eats you out. loves the way it makes everything slicker, messier. loves the way you squirm when the heat of it meets your skin. "look at you, already fucking dripping," he murmurs before his tongue replaces the wetness, dragging slow and deliberate over your clit. it’s not necessary, but it’s rafe—he does it because he can, because he likes to remind you that you’re at his mercy.
he spits when he’s fucking you, too. if you’re on your knees, he’ll tap your cheek, tilting your head up so you’re looking at him before he lets a thick glob of spit land on your face. "such a messy little thing," he coos, rubbing it in with his thumb, smearing it over your lips like he’s marking you. if he’s above you, buried deep, he’ll let it drip onto your chest, watching the way it slides over your skin before he presses his mouth to the same spot, biting down hard enough to leave a bruise.
it’s intimate for him, in a way that should be filthy but isn’t. he doesn’t just do it to be degrading (though, let’s be honest, he loves that part too). it’s a trust thing. it’s a rafe thing. because at the end of the day, you let him do it, you take it, and there’s nothing in the world that gets him off more than that.
im not sure which one of your readers this would fit but the thought of rafe just making fun of reader and calling her fuckin stupid bcs she lets him do wtv he wants makes me 😵💫
(p!link !!!)
this is so bsf!rafe. he’s dumbed you down so much that you don’t even feel bad that he’s cheating on his girlfriend with you. anytime they get in a fight? he’s knocking on your door and shoving his cock down your throat, using you to get his aggression out. you’re just his pretty lil best friend after all, you’re supposed to help him out. most of the fights are because of you in the first place, his gf can’t get over the fact that rafe spends so much time with you :( she hates it sm but whenever she brings it up with him, he shuts down, gets pissed, and finds you to bruise up. almost like he’s hit with some sort of realisation every time he’s done with you, he leaves you leaking his cum onto the covers, n buys the biggest bouquet as an apology to his girlfriend. he’s so mean to you, so demeaning abt how you let him hit even though he knows you know it’s wrong.
sometimes when he’s coked out at one of top’s party’s n his gf’s calling all worried, he’ll be fucking you from the back, fat cock dragging through ur wet cunt. in a momentary lapse of judgment rafe puts the phone on speaker and tries so hard not to laugh at how pathetically bad you are at staying quiet. he’ll make up all these excuses, saying he’ll talk to her when he gets home, only to hang up on her n continue plowing into you. slaps your ass hard when you arch back into him n says things like ;
“dumb lil girl — yeah you’d let me do anythin’ right baby?”
“s’fuckin’ pathetic — can feel y’cunt get tighter when ‘m talkin’ t’her y’know”
“gonna lemme stuff this pretty pussy huh? y’gonna take it?”
rafe cumming inside of reader then holding her open and making her push it all out 😵💫😵💫
this is so him i can’t breath
he always needs to cum in you, just doesn’t feel accomplished if he doesn’t. it’s his way of staking his claim on you, on making you his. i said this before but he doesn’t care about whether or not you’ve had enough or that you’re crying n whining abt being ‘too full.’ rafe will keep going until he’s satisfied, until he physically can’t give you anymore cum. he likes to fill you up n then shove a plug up your needy hole while he marks up your chest, leaving bruises n bites that are hard to cover up. sometimes he’ll forget about the plug n instead make you cockwarm him, telling you to clench so that his cum doesn’t come leaking out. fills you up round after round, so much of it that you can see a little bulge of it though your stomach (which obviously makes rafe more feral). he’s so mean, he presses down on it n laughs when a thick drop of his cum drips out of your slick cunt. tells you to “suck it up baby c’mon tha’s it,” (both figuratively and literally) and squeezes your wet cheeks together when he says “need’ya to keep all of dad’s cum in there a’ight? can y’do that f’dad? hm?”
rafe doesn’t give you a single second of reprieve, load after load until you can’t even cry out anymore. your pussy’s all puffy n swollen, clit engorged with your wetness spread all the way across your inner thighs. he gets down to eye level with it n the way he licks his lips sends a shiver down your spine. “jus— just a lil’ longer, ‘kay? this pretty cunt deserves to be full all the time doesn’t she — yeah i know ‘m right.” as soon as he’s had his fun (in reality he’s just started to feel bad about how pathetically hard you’re trying to keep everything in) he kisses your knee n says “push it out sweetheart — yeah all of it out f’daddy.” it’s just glob after glob of sticky white cum drooling out of your used pussy. the relief you feel is instantaneous and it has you slumping against the comforter, damp with sweat n tears. and rafe? he can’t keep his eyes off your centre. he’s obsessed with the way your hole contracts, with the way his cum is forcefully ejected into the building pool under you. it makes him hard when he thinks about how much was in there in the first place and it makes him want to test your limits n figure out just how much more he can fit. his favourite part is making you push it all out for him, because then, he gets to do it all over again.
this is so mean!rafe !!!! sometimes he doesn’t wanna hear crybaby!reader's sobs n whines, he can’t help himself he just has to shove her head into her lil chair to get some peace and quiet. crybaby takes it like a champ though, whimpers n bites down into the cushion of the seat, getting it all wet with drool and tears.
thinking about rafe and bambi!reader whilst she’s ovulating and how she climbs onto his lap all pretty and desperate, needing his lips and hands on her, her pretty lace panties already soaked beneath her sundress and the heat alone makes rafe groan beneath her. and she’s all pathetic, mewling and whimpering as they make out, her hips languidly grinding and the growing erection in his shorts, his large hands gripping the flesh of her ass beneath her dress as she ruts against him like a cat in heat. rafe being rafe, can’t help but chuckle as he watched her;
“look at you, pretty girl, can’t get enough o’ me, huh?”
“my poor baby, is that pretty pussy achin’ for me, hm? tell me, baby…”
“fuuuck, look a’ you, rutting against me, s’that bad, baby? need me to take care o’ you?”
and bambi!ready can barely form a coherent thought when he speaks to her that way that even when she’s on top of him, she’s too fucked dumb to even do much of the work, rafe using his large hand to grasp her cheeks as he thrusts slowly into her from beneath, “this what you needed, pretty girl? needed me to stuff that pretty pussy? god, you’re fuckin’ squeezin’ my cock so good…”
foamin at the mouth rn bye
warnings: descriptions of an ovulation cycle, bambi is super desperate and whiny loll (sorry in advance), mentions of finger sucking and edging, manipulation (?), making out, dry humping, heavy petting, tit play, teasing, praise, dirty talk, superrr cock drunk bambi (not a single thought in that pretty head of hers), dumbification, breeding kink, creampie
a/n: anon i need to give you a kiss on the cheek for this one!! usually i’ll skip over long asks but this one was too good <3
rafe would be lying if he said he couldn’t wait for this time of month to roll around for you. the incessant humping and clinging onto him for dear life, the crying and acting like you were going to die without him near all contributed to his ego, of course, but it turned him on to see you so much more desperate and needier than usual. while you never had a problem with submitting to rafe in the bedroom, your submission was on a whole other level when you were ovulating, the surrender coming to you naturally in all areas of your body and mind.
you might as well have been a ragdoll when you were so passive and pliant like this. it was almost like your brain was on sleeping mode for this short period of time, any and all thinking was rather done by rafe instead. of course, your boyfriend would take advantage of this and treat you like a brainless little fool while bending you to his every will. making you suck his fingers before teasing you and edging you to tears, encouraging you and whispering filthy obscenities in your ear while you humped his thigh, leg, knee, pretty much anything you could get your needy cunt on.
his personal favorite though was when you couldn’t resist crawling in his lap and smothering him with kisses. despite him acting annoyed, he secretly loved that you couldn’t keep your hands and mouth off of him. “c’mon.. m’trying to watch this.” you whined when he swatted your hands away, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips when you huffed out in frustration. “forget the tv!” you straddled his thighs, your heat sitting right on top of his clothed cock, “touch me, ray. please!” rafe sighed through his nose before planting his hands on your hips as if it was such a chore.
“kiss me too..” you stared up at him with those doe eyes, his jaw clenching at the sight before attaching his lips to the sensitive part of your neck, licking and nipping the flesh there. you moaned softly while your hips moved on their own accord, your clit rubbing against the lace material of your panties as you grinded down on your boyfriend. rafe swore he could feel your wetness through the layers of clothing between you two, his suspicions confirmed when he moved you over and was met with the sight of a wet patch on his shorts.
both of you looked down, his cock growing rock hard in an instant as he snaked a hand underneath your dress and felt the mess between your thighs for himself. “poor bambi, this pussy is just aching for me to fill it up, huh?” you nodded frantically, a pathetic whine leaving your lips before you leaned in and kissed him sloppily. rafe groaned, keeping his hand there between your legs in order for you to ride his palm, the sound of your slick driving him to damn near insanity. “fuck, just look at you, ‘pretty. you can’t get enough..” he teased, deciding to take matters into his own hands and drag your soaked pussy up and down his erection.
you were mewling and whimpering as you two kissed each other feverishly, your lips now glossy with his spit. your hands were balled up tight in his t-shirt, your eyesbrows knitted together in pure bliss while his fingers dug into the plush flesh of your thighs. you were practically dripping for this man already, your skin hot to the touch as you desperately angled your hips for more friction. “fuckkk, look how you’re rutting against me, baby. you need my dick so bad, you want me to take care of you?” you cried out and begged as if he’d never ask, your arms raising above your head as he slipped off your dress.
he circled one of your sensitive buds, drawing a yelp from your lips as he knew how tender your tits were during this time. you held his head in your hands, your cheek resting against his scalp as he took himself out of his boxers. ripping your panties down your legs, rafe left the white lace dangling off of your ankle before you felt his length spring up against your tummy. he was hot and heavy, his cock standing mean and ready to split you open. pulling you against his chest, rafe guided himself at your entrance, giving you a few teasing strokes before entering you agonizingly slow.
your head dropped to his shoulder, your train of thought diminishing with every inch he filled you up. it wasn’t until he bottomed out that he grabbed you by your cheeks, the look on your face telling him everything he needed to know. you might as well have been dead to the world, the way you looked at him as if you didn’t have a brain, your eyes glassy and void of any emotion. you were truly, utterly cock drunk. rafe smiled, keeping his eyes trained on your face as he began thrusting into you. “this is what you needed, bambi, hmm? ‘needed me to stuff this pretty pussy?” you mumbled a mix of nonsense in response, eliciting a laugh from your boyfriend.
“aww it’s okay, you don’t have to make sense, baby, you’re a little dumb right now.” rafe continued thrusting into you, telling you how he was going to fill up your womb with his seed, making you the ‘prettiest mama kildare island has ever seen’. “imagine that. ‘carrying my baby around, being living proof of the filthy shit you let me do to you..” he shushed you when you cried out, his large hand rubbing your back soothingly as he pumped in and out of you. “yeah, let’s make that happen.”
i would absolutely love to hear you talk more abt crybaby!reader and rafes ddlg/little space dynamic💕
i’ve gotten two asks abt this so i’ll just combine them here !! this is more of a darker aspect of their dynamic, so let me know if you’d like something sweeter :) cw ; ddlg themes, subspace, manipulation (emotional and psychological), slight mention of watersports, icky rafe
i think no matter which !rafe we’re talking abt, he will always be a stickler for rules and discipline. this is probably something that’s transferred over from ward and from the way he was brought up, but he does not stand for disobedience. rafe has rules for crybaby that he expects to be followed, for example, a strict screen time limit of two hours and bedtime at 8 o’clock. if she’s acting up, being bratty or not listening, rafe gives her one chance to stop and apologise. if she doesn’t, she’s getting sent straight to timeout. crybaby hates timeout. he makes her sit at an empty corner of the room while he lectures her about how bad girls get punished. he’s got her on her knees, hands fidgeting in her lap as warm tears flow down her face. he’s so mean. he doesn’t even let her hold onto her comfort plush, says that she ‘doesn’t deserve it.’ rafe doesn’t tell crybaby how long she has to sit there. he waits until she’s wriggling around uncomfortably, knees achy and legs asleep from the position. she’s not allowed to make any noise, because that would distract rafe from his work. sometimes he’ll make her strip her clothes or remove a few pieces, and then turn the aircon up so he can watch as she shivers and shakes. he gets some fucked up sense of pleasure from seeing her completely vulnerable.
rafe needs her truely and utterly fucked over before he’s even thinking about offering any sort of comfort. he needs to make sure she’s sorry for what she’s done.
he’s not above denying her the bathroom.. watching as she struggles to stay still with her bladder full.. eventually soiling herself in front of him …
sometimes he’ll guild her towards subspace under the guise of it being for her own good, when in reality he just really. really gets off to how pliant she becomes, how soft and impressionable. he could do anything to her, and she’d let him because he was her dad. he was her everything and she would never, ever want to disappoint him. rafe encourages her dependency on him, “can’t even stand up on y’own, can y’baby? y’need dad, right?” he says things like “you’re too little f’that,” and “that’s f’big girls only,” to keep her small and floaty, just for him.
there’ll be times where crybaby doesn’t want to, where she doesn’t want to be small and stupid. but rafe’s raising his eyebrows and giving her such a scathing look she has no choice but to shrink into herself, afraid of what he’d do. “dad just wants t’take care of his girl. y’don’t want to take that away from him, do you? he’s doin’ you a favour.” rafe pretends it’s for her benefit when his hand slips under her skirt or when he slides a finger up against her lips. “just helpin’ you out, angel. ‘feels good, doesn’t it? y’feel better?” he acts like he’s won a trophy or something every time he manages to force her into the headspace.
he plants ideas in her head, trying to make her more susceptible to his words. rafe makes her believe that she needs physical contact in order to feel better. he’ll push his thick fingers into her mouth, tone cloyingly sweet when he mutters, “suck niceee ‘n slow, sweetheart. ‘f’you bite dad’ll have t’stop, ‘n you don’t want that d’you?” he’s just so — demeaning. she isn’t allowed to talk back if they’re having an argument. if she tries, rafe’s hushing her with that mocking voice of his; “uh-uh, babies don’t talk.”
he does spank her on occasion as another punishment, but the most effective one is probably the silent treatment. it really messes with crybaby’s head whenever he does this. rafe cuts her off entirely, acts as if she doesn’t even exist in the first place; it forces her to feel completely isolated and alone. she could be ugly crying and desperately begging for him to come back to her, and he’d let it go on for hours. it starts of slowly. he stops responding to her questions or looking at her when she speaks. his answers, if any, are clipped and dismissive: “don’t have time f’you right now,” “figure it out yourself.” crybaby can immediately pick up on the shift and she starts panicking. rafe removes anything that could give her comfort, her favourite plushie, her comfort blanket, her phone. if she tries to cling to him or crawl up into his lap, he’s moving away from her, deliberately keeping space between them. when it does finally end, it’s on his terms. he’s pulling her into his arms, stroking her hair gently. “there we go, there’s m’good girl. this didn’t have t’happen. if you’d jus’ listened, dad wouldn’t have to do this. you’re not gonna make him do it again, are you?”
He’s pounding into you from behind, hands pressing down onto your back so your face is smushed up against his pillow. It’s hard to breathe as he lays himself down against you fully, grinding his hips against your ass, his cock rubbing up against the most sensitive spots inside you. “Such a good little cocksleeve.” He whispers into your ear, smirking as you try to reply but it only comes out as a mumble. Drool leaks from your mouth all over the bed, making your hair stick to the side of your face, you feel gross but in the best way possible. Rafe hooks one of his fingers under your chin turning you to look at him as he thrusts particularly deep, a moan ripping its way through your throat so loud it almost hurts; and then he does something you would have never expected. Your eyes roll back into your head as he leans down even closer, his lips brushing against your face as he licks the drool all the way from your chin back to the corner of your mouth, swallowing it down with a satisfied groan as you throb around him. “You’re fucking delicious.”
weird girls texts pt. 2. y’all don’t get how much weird girl!reader is meeeeee 😫😫 liiiiike this my girl this is me ugh. anyway hope you enjoy while i wrap up the next parts to my other other series. weird girl part 1. weird girl part 2. weird girl texts part 1.
rafe with a weird and clingy girl pt. 2 y’all i have a lot of these you don’t even know how weird of a gf i can be. read part one here. text chain here. text chain part 2.
it’s not just cute aggression. although that is a main factor. you need to be touching him at aalllll times. like all the time.
you’re both in bed, the night a cold one for the outer banks. he’s on his side of the bed reading a lame book that you can’t care for. and despite being under the same blanket as him, he feels warmer.
you place your cold hands on his abs and he lets out a tiny yelp and shoves you away. “god, why are you so cold?”
“as my boyfriend it’s your job to warm me up!”
“no way, then i quit”
you put your hands back on him and despite how he tenses from the cold, he doesn’t push you away again. this gives you to the idea to trail your hand down and put them in his shorts.
“what the hell are you doing?”
“that’s the warmest part of you”
“what?”
“it’s like when i put my hands in my bra cause it’s really warm”
“you put your hands in your bra?”
“shut up, you put your hands in my bra all the time”
“to cop a feel not to get warm”
“don’t move my hands!” because he’s trying to get your hands out of his shorts
“baby, you cant grip on me because you want to warm up”
“okay then pretend im coping a feel!”
“get off of me weirdo!” he laughs, attention now on you as you practically wrestle
you like to slap his ass. it’s hard not to. he’s so tantalizing. even when he isn’t trying. you go to the gym with him once and he’s lifting weights as you drool behind him. up and down. up and down. You let out a wolf whistle as you watch him and he tries and hold back his smile.
“just like that” you coo
“you sound like a pervert”
“im a pervert for you”
“that’s not as romantic as you think it is”
“what would you do if i squished a cheek right now?”
this alarms him and he drops the weights, giving you a scolding look. “you can’t squish a guys cheek while he’s lifting”
“im not going to.” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. you were definitely going to.
he gives you a careful side eye, making sure you’re on your best behavior. a few minutes later and he’s back at his task. you sit, bored, still just watching him. you sigh loudly as you get up off the machine you were sitting on. “you’re boring. im leaving”
“wait for me, angel, im almost—“
you giggle and run away as you send a smack to his ass, “sorry! i had to!”
“jesus, you’re an animal!” he calls out after you.
you don’t even stop at family events. cameron events are usually stuffy. you hate them. but you do what you can for rafe. it’s the end of the awkward dinner and you two are washing dishes. “surprised you didn’t make the help do this”
“we gave him the day off”
“spoiled brat” you tease him as he rinses a dish under the water. you finish drying off the plate and put it in the cabinet, eyes trailing over him. his ass looks good in his dress pants.
with a hop to your step, you stand behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. “what are you up to?”
you scoff, “can’t a girl hug her man?”
“you’re hugging me like a broke boyfriend. you only do that when you’re up to something”
“would it surprise you if i said im trying to cop a feel?”
“nothing about you surprises me anymore”
“so you won’t be mad?”
“i’ll be pissed.”
“too late” you bring your hands behind him and give his ass a squeeze. he tenses at this, pushing himself forward to get away from you.
“you’re perverted!”
“you have cake! i can’t help it!”
“cake? god, you gross me out”
“stop running away!”
he’s threatening you with a wet hand towel but you dodge him as you keep chasing after him. dinners at this house are always the worst but not as the two of you run around the kitchen, laughter filling the air.
“uh, what’s happening?” wheezie’s voice cuts the two of you off.
rafe’s got you draped on his shoulder, your hands on his ass from the upside down angle you’re in. you both pause. “we’re touching butts.”
rafe with a clingy and weird girl. read part 2 here. text chain here. text chain pt. 2.
rafe wasn’t always so buff. when you two first started dating he was sorta lanky. you would pinch his thin arms and tease him. when he starts buffing out? holy shit you can’t get enough of him.
he’s come home from the gym and the first thing you do is shove your face into his chest, inhaling him as you rub your face against his pecs. he wraps his arm around your head, practically suffocating you in him. “mell goo.” you mumble into his chest. your hand slowly trails up and you squeeze his pec. like it’s a boob. he hisses and smacks your hand away, shoving you playfully.
you pout, “i wanna squeeze.”
he snickers out a laugh, smacking your hand away from him again. “leave me alone.”
this brightens you up. “are you ticklish?” your tone is teasing, fingers twiddling at him.
he lets out a full bodied laugh at this, pushing your hands away again. “get off, weirdo.”
“just let me honk your tit and i’ll stop”
“i don’t have tits.”
“dude, they’re staring right at me”
“im not your dude”
“okay my beautiful dude let me honk it”
“im feeling very sexualized”
another time when you guys are getting ready for bed. he’s brushing his teeth and you’re applying under eye cream. his arms look absolutely delicious, flexing soflty as he keeps brushing. you can’t control yourself.
you chomp down on his bicep. he stares at you completely bewildered. “did you bithe me?” mouth full of toothpaste
“you looked yummy” you say it lamely. as if it’s no big deal
“you’re like a dog”
“only like? Let’s solidify that” you chomp the air
he laughs, playfully shoving your face away from him.“get away from me”
“come on, it’s just cute aggression. I need to get it out”
“cute aggression? you think im cute??”
you shrug again, nodding. “i’ll show you cute baby,” he scoops you up trodding you over to your shared bed as you laugh happily. “it’s my turn to honk and bite you”
not the casual, summer fling kind of love that flared hot and burned out. no, this was the deep, ridiculous, i’ll-put-up-with-anything kind of love.
and it was all because of you.
you were perched on his counter, legs swinging, a small bowl of strawberries balanced precariously in your lap. the sweet juice clung to your fingers and glossed your lips as you popped another into your mouth. rafe stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching.
“you’re gonna drop that bowl,” he deadpanned. you shrugged, not breaking eye contact as you picked up a particularly plump strawberry and lobbed it at him. it struck him square in the chest, just above where his heart was. it left a faint red streak on the white polo shirt like a misplaced mark of affection.
“seriously?” rafe said with an air of incredulity, looking down at the stain and then back at you.
“oops,”
“oh, you’re done for,” he muttered, striding toward you. you squealed, trying to scramble off the counter, but he was too fast. his hands caught your waist, pulling you back before you could make your escape. you clutched the bowl protectively to your chest, laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “you’re cleaning this shirt,” his face was so close you could see the tiny flecks of gold in his blue eyes.
“sure, sure,” you managed between giggles. “right after you apologise for looking like the perfect target.” he rolled his eyes, but his grip on you softened, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your hip. “you’re so fucking weird.”
“but i’m cute,”
he tilted his head, pretending to consider. “debatable.”
you gasped, leaning in close like you were about to kiss him, and he did the same, his lips puckering just slightly. but before your lips made contact, you blew a sharp puff of air into his mouth. rafe jerked back, blinking in confusion. “what the f—what is wrong with you?” he spluttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched.
“nothing. you just make it too easy.”
shaking his head, rafe grabbed the bowl of strawberries from you and set it on the counter. before you could protest, he cupped your face in his hands, smearing a bit of sticky juice from your cheek onto his thumb.
“you weirdo,” he said softly, his voice low and warm.
hii ml! how do u think crybaby!reader would react to Rafe going to jail? ( for either getting caught w drugs or assault ) would he try to comfort her or tell her to relax and she would be fine by herself
hii sweetheart thank u so much for this !! in this situation i honestly think rafe would be more panicked than crybaby!reader. while yes she’s quite hysterical, cryin n sobbing abt him leaving, rafe is worried about who’s supposed to take care of his lil girl while he’s gone. crybaby’s a sweet lil thing, she can’t do much by herself, she relies on rafe for a lot. he feels more upset about not being able to protect her than actually going to jail. he’d bring her into a big hug squeezing her tight, n mumble a “daddy’s gonna come back ‘kay? y’gotta be a big girl for a day o’two ‘n ‘m gonna come right back t’you.” (unless it’s a pretty hard charge, we all know he’d get bailed out within a few days). he tries not to let his panic show bc he doesn’t want her to feel even worse :c rafe gives her a big kiss on her forehead n makes her promise to be a “good girl.” as much as rafe wants to see her, he basically forbids her from coming to visit him in jail, one bc he doesn’t want the other inmates seeing such an innocent thing, n two, he doesn’t want her getting scared of the disreputable people inside with him.
crybaby spends the entire time he’s away sobbing into his bed, surrounded by things that smell like him. she’s essentially inconsolable, and if it weren’t for rafe making her promise she take care of herself, she wouldn’t have moved once from his room. even though he didn’t really trust anyone other than him around his baby, rafe makes topper come check in on her at least once a day to make sure she hasn’t died of dehydration from all her cryin. sometimes he brings kelce with him n they try cheer her up with games n her favourite shows :c
when he finally gets out she’s the first waiting for him outside the police station. she’d start crying, wailing over how much she missed her dad, his face, his touch. n rafe feels the same. time in jail passed so slowly he felt like he was being tortured without her. she’d throw himself onto him, hugging him like a koala. when they got home rafe would spend a solid few hours jus holding her close on his lap n consoling her, peppering kisses all over her pretty lil face n apologising for leaving her by herself
rafe who genuinely thinks pogue!reader’s put some sort of spell on him .. because why the fuck can he not stop thinking about her? its like she’s haunting him, he sees her in everything. why is she traipsing around in his head like he isn’t having the moral dilemma of a lifetime? why is she the one that gets him off when it’s 3am and he’s fisting his aching cock??
he tries to get his mind off of it, fucks as many people as he physically can, but it’s always her he sees. her face. her lips. her chest. her ass. her. he’s disgusted with himself. disgusted that he can’t stop the way his hips piston faster into whoever’s under him, disgusted with the way his traitorous lips are soo close to groaning out her name. and he’s most disgusted with the way he stuffs the girl full, cumming so far and so deep all whilst imagining it was her cunt instead.
Summary: Day 25 - Underwear stealing/sniffing. Soldier Boy is America's first superhero. The greatest man who ever lived. Larger than life itself. A sleazy chauvinist who's getting off on your panties in a motel bathroom. [AO3 link]
Note: Written for @cozycornerevents Kinktober! Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I think this is my first Soldier Boy fic set in modern day…anyway it was fun writing mean and gross Soldier Boy🤭
You couldn’t relax around Soldier Boy, not when Butcher and Hughie left you alone with him in that damn motel room. It was almost impossible to focus on the TV with him so blatantly eyeing you like a piece of meat. Tried to do the arm-over-the-shoulder move so he could grope your breast, and called you a prude under his breath when you scooted further down the couch.
Sure, he was attractive, but you weren’t about to mix business with pleasure—especially not with a guy who, when introduced to you, asked Butcher if they only kept you around as “stress relief,” as if you weren’t even standing in front of him. Maybe you should have gone with MM and Annie after all.
“I gotta use the can,” he grumbled, scratching his crotch before standing up from the couch.
The tension slowly released from your body the further away he got from you. Picking up your phone from the coffee table, you saw a missed text from Hughie: Sorry to leave you on supe-sitting duty. Everything good?
You sighed, your thumbs hovering over the keys before sending back: Yeah. Nothing I can’t handle.
Threw in an emoji at the end so he wouldn’t feel too bad. It was kind of your own fault, anyway. You decided to go along with Butcher and Hughie because part of you still naively believed in Soldier Boy’s heroism, his authenticity. And then you actually met him. Heard the shockingly crass way he talked, a relic of a time you had no interest in reliving.
You were just about to text Annie when you heard it.
A name. Your name. Low and gruff and mean coming from his mouth.
Putting your phone down, you glanced in the direction of the bathroom.
You knew your best option was to just ignore it when you heard him say your name again—turn up the volume on the TV and ignore the way heat flared up between your legs at the grunts he didn’t even try to keep down. Instead, you stood up, your heart beating faster with each step you took. The motel room wasn’t all that big, didn’t take very long at all to get to the bathroom door, look in where he’d left it open a crack.
Had he been careless? Or did he want you to watch?
You gaped openly at him, pumping his hard cock with a pair of your used panties bunched up in his hand, sliding it up and down his length. Black, satin with a little bow, it was one of your favorite pairs you brought with you, too, and you weren’t sure how to feel about him having chosen that one to get off with, to ruin. You looked back at your duffel bag, wide open and clearly rifled through. Supposed you were trying too hard not to pay attention to him to pay any mind to his violating your privacy.
“That’s right, take it, you fucking slut,” he growled. “You might not be their stress relief, but you’re gonna be mine.”
How the hell was this the same guy whose PSAs you watched throughout your school years, telling you to pledge allegiance to the flag and say no to drugs? He was sick, hypocritical, a symbol of the worst of American debauchery. Every subsequent word that came out of his mouth was vile, objectifying—should’ve repulsed you instead of going straight to your pussy. Your brain was screaming at you to go back to the couch and pretend you didn’t see anything, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.
“I’ll make sure you can’t fucking walk tomorrow, have to carry you over my shoulder and tell everyone what a slut you are for my cock.”
Your breath caught in your throat. He squeezed his cock harder, his pumps more punishing, frustration radiating off of him as his precum soaked through your ruined panties. Could you even bear to wear them again, knowing all the things he said and did with them bunched up in his hand, picturing you in their place, bent over the motel room sink, or anywhere else he could think of in that deviant mind of his.
“How bad do you want it? C’mon, I wanna hear you beg.”
“Please,” you whispered despite yourself.
“I know you’re out there,” he taunted, startling you. “I can hear you panting like a bitch in heat. Why don’t you come in and give me a hand?”
With a gasp, you found your legs again and ran back to the living area. Fell over yourself to get onto the couch and make the TV louder, anything to drown out the sound of his groans, your name mixed with curses as he came just a few feet away.
Your face was on fire, and you sat with your hands folded between your legs, trying desperately to ignore the want that had overtaken you while watching him. You were better than that, better than debasing yourself for someone like him. Still, a shiver ran down your spine when you heard a gruff, drawn out “Fuck” over the sound of the stupid Vought A Burger commercial that was on.
The sink ran. Toilet flushed. Your head was pounding when he walked out of the bathroom and back to the couch.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, throwing your panties at you.
The balled up garment landed on your lap, wet and heavy with his cum. With a reluctant, trembling hand, you pushed it onto the floor.
Your voice cracked as you half-heartedly told him, “You’re disgusting.”
He scoffed, his arm draped across the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder. “You should take it as a compliment. There’s plenty of other broads I could’ve jacked off to—Hayworth, Bardot, Fawcett—”
“But none of them had their panties lying around here, did they?”
“No, they didn’t.” He was silent for a moment before breaking into a grin. “I’m gonna get you to fold sooner or later. Then, I’m really gonna make you beg for it.”
