Rafe is famous with the women, and tutor!reader* finally gets jealous
*you're not obligated to read Tutor to read this, but it does offer context on their relationship and who Patty is (her bestie) :)
Words: +7.2k
Warnings: Fem!Reader. Reader, as always, cries easily. Jealousy. Rafe is an ass and teases the hell out of you. SMUT {piv, pillow princess treatment (as always), drunk sex, makeup sex, a bit rough if you squint, oral sex (fem receiving)}. Lots of alcohol consumption. Mention of uni life (classes, professors, sororities).
Rafe has always been the one to get jealous in the relationship. It's not like it's all the time. Just at some parties on the island, when a guy wouldn't really know about the two of you. Or maybe now at uni, since no one really knows you two, in a class or wherever. You, on the other hand... Rafe honestly just doesn't believe that you are capable of producing such a reaction.
Women have spoken to him at parties, maybe even flirted before a class. But Rafe would always be the one moving closer to you so that the girls would get it. And they always would. And they would always be respectful to say a little sorry before they go.
Rafe just thought it just wasn't in your nature. Your body was just incapable of producing such a ridiculous thing.
Until this week.
The new semester has started, which means new seminars, new professors, and new classmates. And that also meant you and Rafe finally had a class together. Though it was on one of the biggest auditoriums, but you had looked forward to that class because that meant knowing someone. You were tired of having to recognize new faces and new names all over again. Even if that meant dealing with Rafe's routine of just scrolling through his phone and only taking notes of the date during class.
On the first day back to class, Rafe texted you to let you know he was running a little late but would be there in time for class. So, when the classroom was open, you and a few more students made your way inside before the professor. You looked around the auditorium, thinking of where, exactly, Rafe would like to sit. And in the back and by the sides sounded like him.
Minutes passed, and the auditorium began to fill up. You anxiously sat as the seats around you became occupied, always looking at the clock to make sure you wouldn't have to say 'yes, sorry' to another person who asked you if the seat was taken.
Once Rafe finally made his appearance, so did a few more students, since the professor was walking right behind him. Everyone from this last group scurried away to look for a seat, and right as Rafe was 3 steps down from you, a girl sat beside you.
"Sorry, but this seat's ta-" You begin, but are quickly interrupted.
"Please sit down, everyone. I'm already late, and we have a lot to do!" The professor says as soon as he's sitting by his microphone.
The girl in question looks at you with worried eyes, but Rafe gestures you that he'll sit just a few seats down. You force down your disappointment and accept the apologies from the girl.
You watch as Rafe excuses himself through a few people and finally takes his seat. He's sat between two girls, one of whom eyes him up and down as he takes his seat. You study them silently, and, as expected, the girl smiles at him and holds out her hand as an introduction.
The professor's PowerPoint illuminates the wall behind him, and his voice soon fills the room. You look away from Rafe and the new girl hesitatingly and begin to write down the title of the seminar in your notebook.
An hour goes by, and your note-taking abruptly pauses. The two figures have been moving in the corner of your eye for too long, and you've found yourself too curious to not look at them. Countless notes have been lost in the midst of your curiosity, but the girl's enthusiasm has seemed to only intensify with time.
You can't really see Rafe's face, nor most of his movements, but you can see hers and how he turns his head to face her multiple times. She shines her perfect smile at him every time, letting her long blonde hair slide off her naked shoulder, which so happens to be facing him. She whispers at him low enough that you cannot hear a thing, rows away, but your obliviousness to what Rafe could be doing or saying makes your heart pull at every string.
You're able to snap out of it multiple times. You trust Rafe, and he has never given you any reason to be fearful of something as dumb as cheating. But, still, something burns at the bottom of your stomach. It is similar to anxiety, but it crawls in and clings to your chest.
Hours pass, and the seminar draws to a close. In the midst of your packing, the girl beside you apologizes once more for taking the seat and offers you her notes as an extension of her apology. You wish you were in a better mood so you could truly thank her for her generosity, but you do try your best. At least she was able to walk out with a lighter chest.
You finished packing and moved out of the way so other people could walk their way out of the auditorium to their next class. You check the time, as your other class was supposed to start in just a few minutes. And as you go down the steps, you see Rafe already packed and standing, but still listening to the blonde girl. He doesn't notice you as multiple people walk around them to get out of the row of seats, but the girl does see you. But she never stops talking.
You don't blame her, right away. You don't have anything on your face that would make it clear you were waiting for your boyfriend. Or even that Rafe was that boyfriend.
You check the time again and sigh out a sad breath. You've gotten better at not crying with every single frustrating thing in your life, but you still have to work on how much you let it eat at you.
And that's when you decide to not wait for Rafe and just walk to your class by yourself.
Rafe doesn't notice you leaving, not until the class seems to clear out and he doesn't find you in your seat. He texts you right away, but all he gets as a response is a quick "Sorry, had a class on the other side of the building in 5."
"Everything okay?" The girl asks him as they walk out of the auditorium, accidentally (on his part) side by side.
"Yeah, just didn't see my girlfriend leave the room." He says as he frowns down at his screen.
Rafe doesn't notice it, but the girl beside him doesn't seem to be spooked by the word 'girlfriend', like other girls had done in interactions with him. But he wasn't expecting her to. After all, they had only spoken a bit during the class, as Rafe really couldn't have made it clearer that he was not one to befriend for notes. But the girl didn't seem to mind, as she seemed to like a friend anyways.
(...)
Later, Rafe waited for you to be done with the class to pick you up, and quickly noticed how upset you seemed. You blamed it on being tired, so he let it go. But he kept an eye on you.
By the time you had the second class of that same seminar at the end of the week, Rafe made sure to get there on time. You two were going out for lunch after, so it only made sense. Your mood has risen back to its usual optimism, and Rafe couldn't be more relieved about it.
Inside the auditorium, you let him choose the seats and take a careful look around the room. When you sit, you look over at Rafe, but you already find him looking at you.
"What?" You ask him, with your voice soft.
"Nothing." He assures you.
You give him a look, which makes his lips slit into a smile, and you continue pulling out your things to prepare for class. As you're with your pen in hand, you open your mouth to say something to Rafe, but the air stops before it reaches your vocal cords.
"Can I sit here?" A voice asks, following the movement you had seen in the corner of your eye.
Your eyes lift to find exactly who you had wished to have missed class, the blonde girl from before. Rafe looks to his right when he notices the question was for him, and you watch him say a quiet "Sure."
The girl looks at you two for a second and then smiles as she takes her seat beside Rafe. You look away to spare yourself from your overthinking, as you can very much over-analyze the girl and her every action. The professor announces his entrance loudly into the class, letting the acoustics of the room carry his voice to every seat without exception.
You write down the date, and the class soon begins.
As the hours go by, Rafe watches as your mood sours in real time. It might take him a bit to realize why it does, but it becomes too obvious not to notice. The girl beside him would sometimes scootch another inch closer to him, or excuse herself, in a whisper, for having grazed his arm as she took notes. Every single interaction just made your note-taking pause for a second before aggressively continuing.
The class was too long for Rafe to not feel it pull at his heart to reassure you that everything was okay, either by letting his arm, which eventually leaned on the back of your chair, touch you and bring you comfort, or simply by trying to tease you over something else when he was bored.
Still... a small voice in his brain still made him want to grin at the scene. You were jealous. You, for the first time in your life, were jealous. And of a girl that Rafe is sure he has barely looked at.
Though maybe a bit cruel, Rafe did enjoy the feeling that those thoughts brought him. Yes, you were obviously annoyed and upset, but he knew, just like you had known when he was jealous, that it was just dumb. As if he would choose anyone over you.
And he does notice that, as you've never liked confrontation or any sort of argument, you prefer to suffer in silence, and in the midst of your notes, than put your foot down and make the girl move seats. A characteristic of your temper that is so consistently yours that Rafe can't even let his mind wander on if you ever would.
As class nears its end, and after many more attempts at conversation or more apologies from the girl, Rafe did notice that your note-taking outright stopped, and you simply leaned on the back of your chair and into his arm. His hand slides over your arm, but that doesn't make you look up at him.
You sit there in silence until class ends, and only move when it's time to pack up your things. Rafe, with nothing to pack, just stood from his chair to stretch his legs. But so did the girl.
She grabs Rafe's forearm before she speaks, "Are you going to the party tonight?"
You and Rafe look down at her hand on his arm and back at her. "What party?" he asks.
As the girl excitedly starts laying out the details, you force yourself to zone out and finish packing up. With your bag over your shoulder, Rafe snaps you back into reality by laying his warm hand over your head, sliding from the top to the back of your neck as he says, "We'll go, right, baby?" with his flirtatious smile.
"Sure," you tell them with a short and hesitant smile.
Rafe looks back at the girl, who stares back at you as if in a silent dare, and he digs his fingers in your hair to give you a reassuring touch. "We'll have fun," he says to clear the air, and you give him a short smile again.
Sure.
(...)
Thankfully, Patty's presence blessed your dorm as soon as you texted her about the party, and, with one look at your face, she had forced you to spill every bit of information that had made you hesitate every step to get ready for tonight.
Patty sat down and heard it all. To your surprise, she doesn't get angry as she usually does when Rafe does something wrong. She just listens.
"What are you scared of, exactly?" She asked when you finished, but you didn't know what to say. "That Rafe will cheat on you? Leave you?"
You knew, deep down, that Rafe would never do that.
"No," You told her.
"Than what?" Patty asks as if she's leading you to say the most obvious thing in the world.
But you just don't understand what.
"Rafe would never do that to you," She assures you, "I know it, and you know it. But a girl comes along, who I'm sure already knows that Rafe is dating you, and thinks she can do everything-"
"How would she know? Maybe she doesn't know." You naively and dumbly say, which grants you a glare.
"Do we live in medieval times, or do we have access to public social media where your relationship is openly posted on?" She asks you in an aggressive tone that just makes you chuckle, "And that is if Rafe himself hasn't already made it clear, which, let's be honest, he definitely did."
"So, what do I do? Just let it-"
"What?! No!" Patty almost screams, making you smile, "You get off your ass and make that girl leave your boyfriend alone. She obviously hasn't gotten the message like a normal person, so make it clearer to her that he's taken." She emphasizes the word aggressively, making you look away, "I'm not saying that you should fight her, babe - though you could... But make her see that Rafe is not up for grabs."
(...)
Easier said than done.
Sure, Patty did give you the confidence to put your foot down, and you get ready. In theory. In theory, you already knew what to say and do. But when the party came, everything felt too big for you. And that's why Patty gave you alcohol. Maybe too much alcohol.
You truly didn't see much harm at first, and Patty did know how to make a drink. Overall, it took you too long to notice that the damage had already been done with the previous cup, let alone with the one in your hand. With just a gulp to go.
Patty kept an eye on you even when you decided to be the one to leave her side. Neither of you had yet found Rafe or any of his new friends, so you found yourself in the company of just-as-drunk sorority girls. She watched as you squealed in excitement every time one of the girls would mention an auditorial class that you both have, which would only lead to your natural response to declare friendship for life.
Either way, she let you have your fun while she had hers, too. And that's when she lost you.
Patty didn't panic because the sorority girls also had seemingly disappeared, which probably only meant that you had moved to dance or get another drink. So she decides to just text you to see if you're alive, and you answer quickly with a 'yed'.
Good enough.
Minutes later, Rafe spotted you. He had entered the house party with some of his friends behind him, knowing from Patty's text that you two had come earlier than planned. He did not expect you to have already started drinking, but he couldn't help but smile behind his beer as he saw you dance with a group of girls he had never seen, looking like you're living your best day on earth.
You're wearing a short, light blue satin dress, glued to your torso, but flowing with your movements as it rests just below your ass. You have a white cardigan in your hand, probably from growing hot with all the jumping and singing - or screaming - of the lyrics.
Rafe went unnoticed by you for quite a bit. In fact, you had stopped looking for him ever since a single song you knew the lyrics to started. And, maybe after 7 songs later, the girls did want to grab drinks, so you walked with them out of Rafe's field of view.
The kitchen was full of people, but the girls did open a way and made it easier to walk through everyone as they loudly exclaimed their 'excuse me'. As you take another shot with them, Patty found Rafe with his friends.
"Have you seen her yet?" She asks before a proper hello.
"Yeah, she hasn't seen me, though," Rafe says behind his beer before taking a swig.
Patty chuckles, thinking back on your behavior before walking away, which does make it more apparent why you've forgotten your mission for the night.
As Patty goes to open her mouth to speak, a hand wraps around Rafe's shoulder in an attempt to turn him around. Rafe does, but he does not find you.
"Hi!" The blonde loudly exclaims as he faces her. "You came!"
Patty looks at the girl, and it instantly clicks. She watches as Rafe does small talk with the girl, but his friends steal his attention a few times during their conversation. The girl, with this, looks at Patty and smiles brightly as well, "Hi to you too. Did you come with him?"
Just as Patty opens her mouth to speak again, she is interrupted with a drunk girl stumbling into her. With a giggle, the girl holds onto her as she calls out her name, and Patty can't help but laugh at you. The drunken girl who is just so happy to see her at a party, while totally forgetting that you came in together.
"Hey there, drunk girl, having fun?" She asks you, granting herself a nod. "Where did your friends go?"
"Bathroom." You hiccup.
"Have you seen Rafe yet?" Patty tests you, watching as you are obviously unaware of the man just behind you. "No?" She confirms as you shake your head sadly, "Are you sure?" Rafe smiles behind you as he catches on to the conversation.
Patty grabs onto your waist and turns you around. You almost stumble, but then a loud gasp escapes your lips. Your handsome boyfriend, right in front of you. You squeal in drunken excitement, and Rafe smiles as you reach up your arms to his face. He lets you caress his cheek and then pull him into a hug.
Rafe wraps his vacant arm around you to hold you against his side. He looks down at you as you begin to speak, glistening under the house's dim lights with a sheen of sweat from dancing. He smiles down at your mouth, and you plant a kiss on his lips.
You separate from him in a gasp, "My jacket."
Patty laughs behind you, and you turn to face her. "Do you want me to look for it?"
"You would do that for me?" You ask with glistening eyes.
Rafe's chest vibrates behind you in a chuckle, and Patty smiles at you in response before walking toward the kitchen.
As you go to turn back to Rafe, your hand runs up his arm in familiarity, and then your eyes stop on someone. A girl just beside you. You frown in thought as you think back on who she is, and then the thoughts and heavy heart come back as a reminder.
She looks through the dance floor, avoiding your eye, and Rafe's voice snaps her back, even when he's just talking to his friends. Her eyes fall on you right after, and you stare at one another for a bit. You open your mouth to drunkenly ask for her name at an attempt at a friendly introduction, but her voice stops you.
"'m going to get a drink. Want me to get you another beer?"
But the question wasn't to you. Her eyes are on Rafe, who stopped mid-sentence to look at her, and says, "Sure, thanks."
You, drunk as you are, openly frown at her, and she walks away toward the kitchen. You finish turning over to Rafe, who looks down at you, and you continue to frown. "Why did you want her to get you a beer?" You ask him, making him look down at you.
"Because she offered." He says, but your frown only worsens.
"Are you going to accept anything she offers you?" You ask him, and Rafe can't even hide his shock at your tone with him. Never in a million years had he seen this coming.
His silence only makes you take a step away from him, out of his reach, and Rafe watches you do it. Your anger is so out of character that Rafe almost looks at his friends for help, but they sense the tension too. They excuse themselves to both of you to go outside to smoke.
"Well, are you?" You ask him again.
Rafe chuckles down at you, entertained. He puts down his nearly finished beer beside him and tries to reach for you. But you move away.
"Rafe." You turn your head in emphasis as you call out to him to answer you.
"Are you really asking me that?" He asks you over the loud music.
You don't answer.
"No, baby." He says with a smile, which only seems to sour your mood even more. "I am not going to accept anything else from her."
"Anything else...?" Even the tips of your fingers seem to sting in anger, "So you're accepting the beer that she obviously went out of her way of to get you, and only you?"
Rafe really cannot hold it together, for he fights for his life to not just laugh out of pure shock. He didn't even think you were capable of being mad at him anymore.
Your conversation is cut short with both Patty and the girl coming back at the same time. You look away from Rafe and offer Patty a short, uncharacteristic smile in thanks for the jacket. She looks between the two of you right away, and Rafe grabs the beer from the blonde's hands.
"I'm going to get some air." You tell Patty.
Patty stares at you as you walk away, and she turns to face the man behind her. He looks away from you and then over at Patty with his mouth open. Speechless. Patty's look is as clear as day to mean "What the fuck did you say to her?", but Rafe cannot bring himself to speak.
It takes him a bit to figure out what the hell is going on. But Rafe only really starts moving when he sees you step out of the house.
He puts down his drink, gaining the girl's attention, and as she reaches for him and worryingly asks, "Is everything okay?", Rafe simply squeezes past her to follow you out.
Outside, you slide your arms through the cardigan's sleeves and cover your torso from the chill in the wind. You walk through the groups of people, smoking and talking, on the wrap-around porch, excusing yourself to a more secluded area. Once you find it, you lean back on the wall and sigh to yourself.
You pull your phone out of your pocket and try to entertain yourself while the cold sets in.
"Baby," You hear from in front of you, and you look up to find Rafe looking at you.
You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket, still holding your jacket close to you. "I don't want to talk to you right now, Rafe"
"Why?" He asks as walks closer to you, still leaving a space between the two of you.
"Because you're really getting on my nerves, and I don't want to fight with you." You tell him sincerely.
"I am?" He asks, and you nod. He smiles, and you know he's getting ready to tease you. You know that smile - have known it for so long. It flips your stomach around and makes your heart warm, but you're really not in the mood. "Over a beer?"
"It's obviously more than a beer," You start, but he doesn't seem to get it yet. "Rafe, I'm serious."
"So am I, baby. Always." He takes a step closer, closing the space between the two of you. "Just tell me what's wrong." His warm hands find your waist.
"You're smiling," You tell him, "You'll laugh in my face."
"Never."
You huff out a breath and let your head fall back to the wall. Rafe gets even closer to you, and his warmth shields you from the wind. You look away from him to the people around you.
The closest group is a good distance away from you, and the music is muffled by all the sliding doors around you being closed. You're by yourselves, basically. No one but him will hear you.
"I don't like how..." You start, grabbing Rafe's attention again, smile-less. "I don't like that you let her get close to you all the time. Or talk to you like she knows you... I really don't."
The silence between you two sets, and Rafe's thumbs smooth over the satin of your dress, offering you comfort. You two stand in the silence for a little bit, giving yourself a bit to breathe and to make sure nothing is being left unsaid. You look at his face, which you always seem to love to death, but your heart still feels heavy.
"I didn't think you were capable of jealousy." Rafe comments, getting a look in return, "What do you want me to do with her?"
You know his words are sincere, but you do sense a bit of his enjoyment in this conversation. And your heart squeezes harshly.
"Rafe..." You say to him, feeling the tears coming. "I'm serious."
As soon as Rafe sees the glistening in your eyes, his whole face changes too. "I know you're serious, baby." His hands come up to your waist, under your jacket, to hold you even closer to him. "Why are you crying?"
"Because you're enjoying this, you asshole," You tell him, voice wet with the need to cry. "I can see it in your face."
"I am, but not because I'm making fun of you." He tells you.
You stay silent and keep looking at him with a minuscule pout you're obviously holding back. Rafe brings a hand up to your face and wipes the first tear from under your eye before it falls down your cheek.
"I'm sorry," He tells you sincerely, "I really am. I was being stupid."
"You are being stupid," you correct him, getting a tilt of his lips.
"I am being stupid," He repeats. "But what do you want me to do?"
"Not talk to her," You say with a sniffle, "You don't have to be rude, but don't make it seem like... You are okay with it."
"Done," He tells you. "What else?"
You feel a small pull at your lips for a small smile, but you look away from him to hold it back.
"Just tell her you're taken. That's all." You tell him.
"I have, but I will do it again." His words make your chest lighter, and your eyes go back to his. "What else?"
You don't hold the small grin that comes this time, and sigh in thought.
"I don't think I have any other requests."
"No?" He asks, leaning closer to you, "I was expecting a request for a tattoo of your face on my chest, at least."
You laugh in his face and reach your hands to him. His arms completely wrap around you, with the opportunity of you moving, gluing you to him. "You're right, I should be more possessive over you."
Rafe hums in agreement, looking down at your lips. You kiss him and pull away to look at him again. "I still hate you for wanting to laugh at me."
"I was just happy that you were finally possessive over me. I'm a simple man."
"More like scared to lose you, Rafe. Not possessive."
Rafe moves his head back a bit to look at you completely, his smile faltering a bit. "You're never getting rid of me, baby. I'll get the tattoo before you ever get that thought back into your head."
You chuckle as he smiles with you. "I love you," you tell him, getting a kiss in turn, "and I am freezing."
Rafe looks for the closest door of the house, and pulls you with him. The loud music fills your ears, and Rafe pushes you in before closing the door behind him. He leaves a hand on your hip and then starts leading you through the crowd, who's dancing to the music.
The house gets warmer and warmer as you get deeper into it. Not only from it being full of people, but from most of the crowd still being actively enjoying the party. You consider taking your jacket off, but Rafe's hand on your hips is starting to confuse you.
You expect him to take you back to where everyone was before you left, but you notice that he is taking you elsewhere when you start walking down a hallway.
You look over your shoulder as Rafe opens a door and peeks inside, and he places his hands on your hips to pull you into what seems like an unused guest bedroom.
Of course.
A small chuckle leaves your lips as you turn around to face him. "Don't we always end our discussions with sex?" You tell him as he closes the door.
"You're complaining?" He tests you.
You take off your cardigan and lay it on the naked mattress behind you. "Maybe," you shrug as Rafe walks closer to you, "Maybe our relationship is too heavy on sex."
Rafe pauses in front of you, and you can't help but laugh out loud at the look on his face. "You don't think we should be lighter on sex?" You ask him.
"You're the one that wakes me up in the middle of the night to eat you out, so don't-" You cackle at him and feel your face warm with his words.
"And you do it every single time," You tell him as he steps closer to you, "You never complain."
Rafe pushes you to sit on the bed, then goes down to your height. You watch him as he brings your leg over his shoulder, and lean back on your elbows in the bed. Rafe looks up at you as he lays a kiss on the inside of your thigh, and your breathing heavies.
"And I will continue to do it." He kisses your skin again, "For as many times as you want me to."
You smile down at him, and he slides your dress up your hips as his mouth follows, looking away while kissing your lower tummy. Your breathing hitches as he moves down and kisses your pussy over your underwear, applying pressure with his lips over the thin fabric.
Rafe kisses you over the fabric one more time, and you hold your breath when he moves your panties to the side. And, with it, he looks up at you again, just to check on you, light eyes darkened with lust, before his mouth closes the distance between you two.
Rafe doesn't kiss anymore, not like before. He holds your panties with one hand and licks right between your lips, from your entrance to your clit in just one slow movement. Your eye contact breaks instantly as you let out a deep breath and let your head fall back.
You unfold your arms and fall back completely on the mattress. Rafe watches you and uses that moment to adjust his kneeling and pull your panties off your legs completely. You chuckle as he throws it over at you, and he roughly holds onto your hips to maneuver your body closer to his mouth.
His warm mouth and tongue work on your pussy, and your hands move to his on your hips. The feeling of his tongue over your clit, with his rough hold over your hips underneath your hands, makes you let out a whimper, and that just motivates him to do more.
Rafe sucks on your clit, and you quickly move to grab at his longer hair at the top of his head - a part of Rafe's that you have been deprived of for way too long since the buzz cut, which had led to you one night begging him to grow it back again. He groans into your skin, and you look down at him. You watch him as he lets go of your clit with a wet kiss and moves his tongue down to your entrance.
He pulls you in closer to slide his tongue, and his nose slides across your clit, making you whimper out to him. He smiles as he licks back up and sucks your clit back into his mouth.
You close your eyes, with your heart racing and with pleasure thick in every fiber of your body. And it is with his head between your legs, and you lying across the bed with your dress up to your hips, that the door of the bedroom opens suddenly and scares the absolute shit out of you.
In a millisecond, you rise in your elbows and try to close your legs with Rafe lifting his head right between them.
But you then just meet the eyes of the blonde. That same blonde. She stands by the half-opened door, frozen from head to toe, and her mouth is left ajar. "I..." She begins to say, but she doesn't seem to find the words.
You truly don't know what comes across your drunken brain, but as you look at her. Frozen as she looks between you and Rafe. You can't help but start laughing.
And laughing some more.
You bring your hand to your mouth to hide your giggles, and that just seems to snap her awake, as just after your third loud chuckle, the door is slammed closed, and she is gone.
You fall back on the bed, not controlling your giggles just yet. Rafe lets out his own chuckle as he lets his head fall onto your leg.
The two of you stay like this for a bit, and your racing heart begins to slow with your giggles.
When you finally calm down, he kisses your thigh and gets up to lock the door. You watch him as he turns the key and, on his way back to the bed, you sit up and raise your dress over your head.
Rafe watches your every movement as more of your soft skin is revealed and no bra appears underneath the dress. When you're done, he takes his own shirt off, and you smile up at him.
"What are you smiling about, hm?" He asks you with a smile of his own, "Thought we have too much sex. Weren't you just considering stopping all of that just now?"
"Just wanted your opinion, Rafey," you tease him as you reach out and grab him by the waist of his jeans. "Can't a girl be curious?"
Rafe follows your pulling and watches as you unbuckle his jeans without breaking eye contact with him. He brings his pants down his legs and then kisses you to let himself be pulled over on top of you.
You wrap your legs around him and, as your tongue glides across his, your hand slides over his boxers. Rafe lets out a small moan into your mouth, and you pull away from the kiss. Rafe gets his boxers off, and your eyes follow him the whole time.
You let out a giggle as he pulls you even closer to him by your leg, and lock eyes as he slides right inside of you.
"Oh, fuck," he whispers to himself when he gets totally inside of you. "Every time," he tells you as he feels your warmth and slick around his dick. As perfect and every time he does it.
You smooth your hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck, and you give him a nod to start moving. Rafe, right away, begins to thrust into you and moves down to rest his forearm beside your head to lean over you. You moan right into his face as he thrusts more deeply into you, and he shines a smile before silencing you with a kiss.
Your nails dig into the back of his head, and Rafe groans at the squelch one of his thrusts produces and how your pussy squeezes him in response. His lips separate from yours and move into the curve of your shoulder, letting you moan into his ear as he lays kisses over your skin.
You whimper at a certain thrust, and Rafe bites at the skin on your neck. Your legs hold onto him closer, and he moves over to your ear, "Does it feel good, baby?" You nod, "Want more?" You nod again. He chuckles into your hair and pulls away from you, pausing his movements into you.
Your hand falls by your head as he sits up, and you open your mouth to complain when he slides out of you. "Turn around," he tells you, making you unwrap your legs from around him and turn on the bed. Rafe's hand follows your movements, resting on your hips as you lie on your stomach and raise your ass up at him.
He moves your legs to have you comfortably in front of him, and then slides back in. You moan at the feeling, sensing him impossibly deeper and right where you want him. He chuckles, knowing by now that this will always be your favorite position, and starts thrusting into you.
His hands grab onto you, and occasionally slide to grab at your ass, always getting a sound of yours in return. He curses out loud as you feel even wetter as he touches you and keeps slamming at a reasonable rhythm into you.
Rafe watches as you bring an arm away from near your head over to your pussy, making you breathe out a whimper as you touch your own clit. Rafe leans over you and meets your hand with his own, but before you can move yours away, he holds it under his so he can also slide over your clit with his and your fingers.
The feeling of his rougher over your soft skin is something Rafe has done before, but it works. You raise your upper body from the bed with your other arm and lean your forehead into the mattress as you moan out. Rafe lets your hand escape and does all the work for you all over again.
His touch over your clit with his own groans and heavy breathing over yours, the sound of his hips slamming into your skin, and even your own whimpering. It all becomes a lot to you before you even realize it.
Rafe senses it, you grow tighter and the hands by your sides close into fists with nothing to grab.
"Are you close already?" Rafe questions.
You moan in agreement, and his fingers speed up over your clit. You feel the pleasure in your belly rise in response, and your hips meet his thrusts back. You moan out loud as the orgasm begins to ripple through you, and Rafe lets out a moan as your pussy squeezes the hell out of his dick right back.
He lets you ride your orgasm out to the end, listening to you mumble nonsense noises as you let out heavy breaths and pleasure keeps moving through your body. As you slow down, he brings his thrusts to a stop and lets you have a breath.
"Rafe..." You mumble, and he keeps looking down at you, breathing heavily.
"Hm?"
You move your hand back to him, and he holds it. You pull him to you, and he leans over your body. A moan escapes you as his hips move against yours as he does, and then his warm torso against your back makes it even better.
"Want me close, baby?" Rafe asks as he kisses your shoulder. "Needy," he teases, and you groan at him. He chuckles against the skin of your back and tests, moving his hips into you. The sensation isn't too different from before, but now you two were skin to skin. Just as you wanted to be
You move back into him, dragging your ass into his hips, and he nips at the skin of your shoulder in response. He holds your hips in place and you let out a breath at the familiar pressure of his hands on your skin.
With you completely lying on the bed, with your ass slightly arching up for Rafe, pleasure then almost seems stronger when it reappears from the pressure. Rafe lays a forearm right behind your head and starts really thrusting into you.
You hold onto his arm as you moan out, and Rafe hides his face into your hair as he chases back his past, nearing orgasm, and you rebuild a one for yourself.
His warm breath against your skin and his sweaty chest and abs dragging across your back, in some way, stimulates you further.
You bring your hand behind you and grab his head to pull his lips into yours. It isn't a perfect kiss in any way. With pleasure back strong as ever for both of you, you two need to breathe in the midst of the kiss or pause even to moan into each other's mouths. Spit coats your lips and even down a bit to your chin, but something in your depraved brain loves every second of it. You also don't let Rafe pull away from the kiss, and he doesn't protest.
Rafe begins to feel his own orgasm closer and closer, and he deepens the kiss further. Your hand clings onto his hair, and Rafe groans from the pressure. He brings both of his arms into the bed, making himself impossibly closer to you, and he thrusts harder into you with the support of his hold on the mattress.
Your insides seem to explode with the power of your orgasm, and you finally pull away from the kiss to bring your face into the bed. Rafe finally too cums, bringing his face into your shoulder for support.
You two breathe heavily as pleasure runs for, what seems, from one body to the next, and stay as close to one another as possible.
When the two of you finally return to reality, Rafe pulls out and falls on the bed beside you. The cold of the room hits your back, but you don't mind it too much.
"You okay?" He makes sure, and you nod.
"Are you?" You ask in a teasing tone.
He looks over at you, his hair a mess and still a little bit out of breath, but he smiles as an answer. "Round three?"
You do a tired chuckle, and he keeps looking at you. "Maybe after my nap."
"Deal," He says, making you laugh again.
Watching Off Campus made me miss my babies, so here I am. Writing them having sex, as always.
you woke up as he kissed you, soft at first, almost sweet. but his hand was already sliding down your body, his rough fingers slipping between your thighs before you were fully awake. you made a sleepy sound, trying to cuddle into him, and that's when you felt it, the cold press of silicone against your clit.
"rafe?" your voice came out confused.
"shhh baby," he murmured against your neck, clicking the vibrator on low. "just let me."
you moaned before you could help it, your body responding to the sudden pleasure. he pushed inside you slow, filling you up while the toy buzzed against your sensitive and swollen clit. it felt good, too good, and you were already clenching around him. "fuck, rafe, that's—"
"i know, honey." he cut you off with a kiss, starting to move inside you. "that's the point." the pleasure built fast. too fast. your hands gripped his shoulders as your back arched, and you came with a broken cry, your walls fluttering around his cock. but he didn't stop. he kept fucking you, kept the vibrator pressed right where you needed it least.
"wait, wait—" you gasped, trying to push his hand away. "it's too much, rafey."
"no it's not." he pinned your wrist above your head, his pace never slowing. "you can take it."
your second orgasm crashed built inside you before the first had fully faded. tears slipped down your cheeks as you shook beneath him, a loud moan came out of you. he watched you fall apart, his eyes dark and hungry, and he didn't let up. "r-rafe, seriously please, i can't—"
"you're gonna." he pressed harder with the vibrator, fucking you deeper. "you're gonna keep coming for me until i say stop."
your pussy was soaked, making wet squelching sounds with every thrust. you were already overwhelmed, oversensitive, and he was right, he made you come again, a third time, your body jerking through it as a sob broke from your lips.
"good girl." but he didn't even slow down. his hips kept slapping against yours, the vibrator never leaving your clit. you were shaking so hard you could barely breathe, every nerve inside of you on fire.
"please, rafe, please stop, i can't, i can't do another one" you begged, your voice cracking. tears were streaming down your face now, and you tried to move away, but his weight pinned you down. "yes, yes you can, baby." his voice was low, almost gentle, but his eyes were cold. "you're doing so good for me. just one more. give me one more."
"no, no, please" you sobbed, but your body betrayed you. the fourth orgasm ripped through you again, violent and uncontrollable. you screamed into his shoulder, your nails digging into his back as you shook around his cock. "that's it." he groaned, fucking you through it. "that's my girl."
you were a total mess. soaked, shaking, crying. every muscle in your body was tense, and the vibrator felt like fire against your clit. but he still didn't stop. he turned the toy up a notch. "rafe, no! i swear i can't—" you barely choked out, trying to clamp your thighs shut. he forced them open with his knees.
"you can and you will." he thrust harder, faster. "you're gonna come on my cock until i'm satisfied." the fifth one came without any warning, a sharp and painful surge of pleasure that made your vision go white. you couldn't even scream anymore, just a broken whimper as your body tensed up, pussy clenching so tight it almost hurt him. rafe groaned, pace finally faltering.
"fuckkk, there you go." he pressed down on the vibrator, grinding it against you as he came inside you, hot and thick. you felt every pulse of his release, your oversensitive cunt milking him dry.
when he finally pulled out and turned off the toy, you were limp, gasping, tears still wet on your cheeks. he kissed your forehead, soft and possessive. he smiled down at you, a perfect mess, all wrecked just for him. "see, baby? you can take it."
𓂃✍︎ bf!rafe dealing with you squirming during sex . . .
summary: perhaps it was the fact that he was thrusting in a terribly fast and harsh pace, but you just couldnt seem to be able to stay still.
content: smut, dom!rafe with a lot of manhandling + talking you thru it, piv, positions change; missionary to doggystyle.
Both of your weeks ended like every sweet couples' usually do; using the last bits of your staminas just to get a satisfying release that'll clear out your heads from the long, tiring day. The word release, in this case, meaning sex till you're damn near breaking the bedframe.
That night, Rafe was being particularly rough, choosing the missionary position like he always does whenever he felt the desire to be the one 'in charge', placing wet, open-mouthed kisses around your neck while the sound of your moans fills his ear, his favorite melody.
Perhaps it was the fact that he had not only a tiring day but also a somewhat bad one, needing and chasing this satisfaction more than ever with his hips thrusting at a terrifyingly fast pace, practically slamming again and again into you while his fingers were grabbing onto your hips so tight it might even bruise your skin. His hands were a guide to your hips so you too were moving against him.
"Oh fuck... just like that..." he grunted, panting into your ear as he fasten his pace even more, your hips shoved together.
The problem isn't that you didn't like it, oh you fucking enjoyed it. Instead, the problem is the fact that you were a squirmy person, barely able to keep your limbs still as he drives his cock in and out of your pussy rapidly.
Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into his burning skin, only to let go and grip onto the sheets instead, not even knowing what to hold onto anymore. Your back arched, hips stuttering frantically in his hold, making his control on your hips movement a tad difficult, meanwhile your toes curled with your legs restless and your head thrown back over the pillow.
A moan escapes your throat, loud and desperate, "Fu- mm.. fuck!" You gasped, "S-so fast! I... I can't- please!" You pleaded with him, your shaky hands reaching for his wrists to try and pull them off your hips.
"You can, baby... I know you can..." Rafe assured you with ragged breath, his voice incredibly calm for someone who's raging cock is pounding into you, "Shit... stop moving, can you?"
He let out a grunt, patience growing thinner with each movement you made, which then led him to grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them up above your head on the pillow.
With your hands stuck on that position, you could only arch your back and move your legs as the tip of his cock kept on hitting all the right spots to make your toes curl even more. It might just be your favorite feeling in the whole wide world.
"Stop moving around, baby..." Rafe groaned, feeling your tits pressed against his chest due to how much you were arching your back, his ears filled with your desperate, mumbled, and frantic pleas. "I know, I know... You can take it, okay? Just... ah fuck..." He whispered, ragged breath and moans of his own filled your ears.
Yet now with only one hand on your hip, it was harder to guide them to move against his when your just kept on squirming and wriggling, so much that his dick managed to slip out once. Which to Rafe, once was plenty.
Rafe let out another groan, "Goddamnit!" He took his hands off your wrists– only to flip you over onto your stomach, hands guiding your hips to be lift up to provide him with your ass in the air, "Fuck... hold on, baby..." He cooed, as if as a silent apology.
As he thrusted back into you hard and deep, his hands held your wrists behind your back tightly, the slight grin on his face showed how he was assured that now you weren't gonna move as much. Not even gonna be loud, not with your flushed face pressed against the pillow, surely.
"Ra... Rafe..." You managed to moan against the pillow, eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool pooling onto the white pillow case. The position you were in had the least possibility to squirm around, only able to wiggle your fingers.
Rafe just kept on pounding into you, longing to feel those walls squeeze around him and hear the loudest and dirtiest moan leave your swollen lips, to know you were satisfied with the night just as much as he was. And while he's at it, he was still busy holding your wrists together, keeping your roaming hands still from clawing onto him.
𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: frat!Rafe Cameron x innocent Pogue!reader
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: dark, dubcon, unhinged inner monolog from rafe, misogynistic rhetoric, classist rhetoric (in the context of kooks, pogues etc), daddy kink, innocence kink, loss of virginity, smut (oral + p in v), oral (female receiving, fingering, MAJORR size kink, spanking, daddy issues, condescension, babying, dirty talk, swearing, very unbalanced power dynamic, which rafe gets off on, slut-shaming, derogatory name calling, manipulation, college au, reader is a freshman and rafe is a senior, 18+ only, mdni
𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: Rafe bets his friends he can fuck you in one week.
𝘼/𝙉: It's here! The full fic. Word count: 23k. Please let me know what you think - reblogs and feedback mean the world to me. Read the warnings before you read, and enjoy!
“Her.”
Rafe looks over at the Pogue girl Topper’s nodding at and smirks. “Been there, done that. Pick a different one.”
Topper scoffs, “She literally moved here last week.”
“And?”
“OK… What about her?” He brazenly points at a leggy blonde that stands out in her group of Pogues.
“Last weekend at the beach party you threw. She gives good head.”
“Jesus Christ dude, is there anyone left??”
Rafe chuckles, leaning back and stretching his legs out while his friends stare at him in disbelief. He sometimes wonders if they know how stupid they look. Like followers. His followers. Hanging on to his every word, oohing and aahing at whatever he did. Making him feel like he was a God among men. Which he may as well be, considering that’s how most people at this college looked at him.
That’s why he loved fucking the Pogue girls. Almost exclusively. There was something about the power imbalance. Most of them came from poor families, looked at Rafe like he was a God. It didn’t take much for them to spread their legs for him, impressed by his power, turned on by his wealth. Hell, even the Kook girls were the same. But Rafe hardly ever took them home. They were spoiled sluts who hung around the country club wasting their lives and spending their daddies” money. Yeah, they didn’t pique his interest at all. Not as much as the Pogue girls who worked at the country club. In their little housekeeping outfits, deliberately teasing him in the hopes he’d take one of them home.
Yeah. It was safe to say Rafe Cameron had a type.
“Well, what about that one?”
Rafe rolls his eyes, about to say that yes, he had indeed fucked whatever girl Topper was pointing at this time. Because he’d fucked all of them. Because of who he was. Because of what he was capable of. Because of the family he came from. Because of what being a mere notch on Rafe Cameron’s bedpost meant to every single slut he’d ran through.
Except he doesn’t. Because Topper is pointing at you. And he’s never seen you before in his life.
You look so out of place, despite the fact you’re with a group of Pogues. And he knows you’re a Pogue. Like a shark with blood and a predator with its prey, he can always tell. And yet you stand awkwardly on the outskirts of the group, smiling yet not quite participating in whatever conversation is going on. You push your glasses up, straighten your skirt, pretend to look for something in your book bag. You’re shy. Self-conscious. Insecure. Rafe smiles.
“Who is she?”
“Aha! You haven’t slept with her!” Topper cheers like he’s won the fucking lottery. Sometimes Rafe wonders why he’s friends with him.
“Who is she?” He repeats like he hasn’t even heard him.
“She’s the new chick,” Kelce says, “except she’s not exactly new in town.”
“I heard she was home-schooled,” Topper snickers, “That’s why she’s fucking weird and has no friends. Even the Pogues don’t want her.”
Rafe observes you some more. Watches the bright smile on your face, how you try to chime in to whatever conversation the girls around you are having. They nod at you politely yet dismissively. They’re not your friends. As Topper said, you don’t have any.
Insecure. Weak. Vulnerable.
He licks his lips.
“How long?”
“Huh?”
He runs a hand through his hair impatiently, “How long do you wanna bet it takes me to get her into bed?” He nods in your direction.
Topper raises an eyebrow.
“You can’t be serious, man. She looks like she doesn’t even know what sex means.”
Kelce laughs, “She looks like she can’t even say it. Like she spells it out every time, s-e-x.”
They’re right. You look very innocent, but all that does is incense him. Rafe’s used to easy sluts who spread their legs after one drink or a ride on his motorbike. But you. He can tell you’d be harder to crack. But there’s something so fucking hot about how naive you look. How shy and sweet you are. How ruined he could leave you. Splayed out on his bike, legs quivering, all sweaty limbs and shy pants after he’s done having his way with you—
“How long?” He repeats, not in the mood to waste time and already getting hard picturing innocent little you with your tiny skirt flipped up and his head buried between those soft thighs, your sweet little confused cries because no one’s ever touched you like that, and—
“A week.”
“Mm?”
“A week to fuck her. With proof.”
Rafe stands up and stretches, licking his lips as he watches you retreat to a small bench, getting your little book out and burying your nose in it.
“That’s too easy. What do I get when I do it?”
“If you do it, you can decide what you get then. But as I said before, we’d need proof.” Kelce says.
“Yeah, proof,” Topper echoes, a glint in his eye as he looks over at you, “Pictures.”
Rafe shrugs, already kind of bored, “Sure.” He’d taken plenty of pictures of his conquests in the past. Him and his boys had a group chat where they shared that kind of shit. And the idea of taking pictures of you in such a vulnerable position gets him harder than anything. Sweet little freshman baby fucked dumb by the big bad senior, posing for pictures afterwards all teary-eyed but submissive. They all got submissive for him, even after he was done using them.
You flip a page, completely engrossed in your book and looking every bit the naive baby he’s imagining you as. A little lamb who has no idea she was in the presence of a fucking lion. And he bets you’re a virgin. Homeschooled with no friends? Forget virgin, you probably haven’t even had your first kiss. And that gets him so fucking horny, right there in the middle of the campus courtyard. The idea that you’re so pure, so untouched. So happy, so unassuming. A little fucking baby.
He’d have fun ruining you.
***
“You sure do love reading, don’t you?”
It’s the following day when Rafe finds you sitting by yourself in the corner of the library, with nothing but your book to keep you company.
You jump like a little mouse, pushing your glasses up your nose and gulping up at him, fear briefly flitting across your face before you force a small smile. And he likes his girls jumpy, he likes them slightly afraid of him. He knows he has that effect on people in general, but he wonders who’s told you about him.
“Sorry, were you — uh — were you talking to me?”
Rafe smirks, “Yes. Who else would I be talking to?”
“Oh, uh, I’m not sure…”
“It was a rhetorical question.”
“Oh, of course,” you look embarrassed, and he watches you squirm under his gaze for a good few seconds. “I… um…”
“You find books more interesting than people?”
“Huh?”
He chuckles, pulling up a chair next to you, noting how your eyes widen as he takes a seat, “Why are you always reading?”
“I don’t know, I guess I just like to read,” you shrug.
“You sure do.” He wonders if he could get you to read your precious book out loud while he went down on you, licked your virgin cunt while you cried because it felt too good. And then he’d spank you if you stopped or messed up a word, and like a stupid dumb fucking baby, you’d sniffle and wail through each paragraph, hold back your moans while he went to town on your little pussy till you wet yourself, and he’d suck your—
“Are you making fun of me?”
You pose the question so innocently— hell, you practically whisper it, and it knocks Rafe straight out of his daydream to find you blinking up at him with Bambi eyes.
“What?”
You bite your lip, “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m not so good at understanding if someone’s joking or not. I’m not… uh… I’m not used to being around so many people, and it makes me nervous and I can’t tell if someone’s being genuine or if they’re making fun of me.”
“You were homeschooled, huh?” Rafe stares at you intently, noting how you play with your hair nervously, and your fingers tap against the hard cover of your book. How you can barely make eye contact with him for longer than a few seconds.
“Yes. My mom taught me and my older brothers.”
Rafe nods, taking his time to answer. He looks at you some more, enjoying how it makes you uncomfortable. You fidget nervously, and it amuses him every time you peek up to meet his gaze before a look of alarm crosses your face and you divert your eyes down to your book once more.
“You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?” He says finally, chuckling at the embarrassed look on your face.
“I… I guess. I do want to make friends but it’s pretty overwhelming.”
“I’ll be your friend.”
He does a good job of hiding his predatory, wolfish smile. And he wonders if you can see the glint in his eye as he mentally undresses you. You look so small and weak, especially compared to him. Gullible too. Too innocent for your own good, the way you gape up at him as if he’s offered you gold on a platter. It makes him want to stroke your soft cheek, pat it and tell you what a good little girl you are. For being so naive.
You shake your head as if trying to straighten out your thoughts. He can tell, he has that effect on women too.
“Oh, you don’t have to, I uh—”
“Rafe Cameron?! In the library?!” An annoying, high-pitched voice shrieks, making you jump as it cuts you off mid-sentence.
It’s a kook girl. A cheerleader. Rafe can’t be fucked to remember her name but he’s sure he’s hooked up with her. She’s one of those ones, the ones that hang out at the country club and try to catch his eye. One of the desperate sluts who thinks if she spreads her legs enough times for him, that he’ll make her his girlfriend or some stupid shit like that.
“Rafe, what are you doing here?” The cheerleader sidles up to him, her hand on his chest and batting her lashes in his direction in some pathetic form of seduction. She ignores you, and you shrink into yourself, hastily burying your face in your book.
“What do you want?” He asks, not quite as interested in her answer as he is in continuing to stare at you. How you try to act like you don’t care, but he knows you’re hurt from being ignored, from being treated like you’re invisible.
“Nothing. Just wondering what you’re up to.” But she flashes him her fuck me eyes, her nails scraping suggestively against his chest. Rafe yawns, considering it. He has time before his next class (not that he could be fucked to turn up to class half the time) and his dick’s hard from talking to you. And since you probably don’t even know what the word blowjob means…
“Go in there,” he nods at one of the private study rooms in the far end of the library, and the fucking slut nearly trips as she scrambles to obey him. Rafe takes his time, stretching his legs before slowly getting up.
You peek up from your book, “Are you guys gonna go study in there?”
He could’ve bust a nut then and there from how fucking innocent you sound. Batting your little eyelashes at him like you’re trying to seduce him without even realising it. He knows he’ll be thinking about you, weepy and on your knees, while the kook girl blows him. Fuck, and if he plays his cards right, he’d have you by the end of the week. And he always plays his cards right.
“You could call it studying.”
You nod, “OK, well, goodbye then.” You look back down at your book, but risk a glance up at him again, which he finds very amusing.
“What’s your name, homeschool?”
You tell him.
He sounds it out, before shooting you one last smile, “Well, I’ll see you soon. Won’t I?”
You give him a puzzled look, but it’s replaced by your usual wide-eyed Bambi stare when he pats your hand, his thumb lingering, stroking your skin. He wonders if you’ve ever even touched someone of the opposite sex before. Judging by how your breath hitches softly, he doubts it.
Fuck. He can’t wait to ruin you. Play the slow game and enjoy that sweet virgin snatch before any other man ever could.
That’s what he’s thinking of when he’s got the cheerleader on her knees in front of him. That sweet little look on your face, the look of curiosity mixed with shyness and that little hint of indignation. Fuck, he wants to ruin you. And he would. With proof.
***
Day two. Rafe finds you walking down the hallway, your books clutched to your chest and eyes trained to the floor. Cutest little skirt making your perky ass pop, winking at him enticingly with every step as if you’re deliberately seducing him. Makes him want to slap your cute little ass, reprimand you for teasing him and half the men on campus without even realising it. He wonders what you’d say if he just did it. Spanked you in front of everyone. You’d probably start blubbering like a little baby. He has to forcibly stop picturing it before he gets uncomfortably hard.
You’re alone. As usual.
“Hey, homeschool,” he falls into step beside you, eyebrow raising in amusement when you don’t slow down nor look at him.
“Oh, h-hello, Rafe.”
“What’re you up to today?”
“Nothing, just going to my next lecture.”
He grabs your wrist, watching as your breath hitches, and yet you still don’t look at him. Damn, what had gotten Bambi so scared?
“You’ve got time to talk to me, don’t you?” He asks, but it’s not really a question. And you know it, judging by how you swallow harshly.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t want to be late—” You attempt to tug your little hand out of his grasp but you’re so small and weak that it barely has any effect.
“C’mon, homeschool. That’s no way to treat your one and only friend.”
He’s walks you into a corner, and he likes how you gape at the wall before turning and looking up at him. He’s so much taller than you, bigger than you in every single way.
“Rafe, I…” you sigh, shifting from one foot to the other, “My friends said some things…”
“Friends?” You don’t have any.
“Some of the girls I know. They saw us talking yesterday at the library and they…” you sigh, “They said you were probably just playing a joke on me.”
Fuckin’ jealous pogue bitches.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. They said there’s no way you’d talk to me for any other reason apart from as a joke. And they…” you bite your lip, looking so cutely distraught and it goes straight to his dick. “They said some other things… about you.”
Of course they fuckin’ did. Always talking behind his back, but never to his goddamned face. Nothing but a bunch of jealous, gold-digging whores.
He doesn’t say anything, just merely looks at you as if he expects you to tell him. And he knows you will. You’re too innocent to keep secrets.
“They said that you… that you’re scary sometimes.”
Rafe remains impassive, waiting for you to continue.
“That you… that you pick on a lot of us Pogues. E-Especially the boys. That you and your friends bully them.”
He snorts. Bully. What a juvenile word. Sure, he pushed the dipshit Pogues around here and there. They deserved it for all the trouble they ran around town causing, disrupting the natural order of shit. And he could fuck their girls better than they ever could. Especially that fuckin’ idiot JJ Maybank…
“They also said that… never mind.” Again, you try to tug away from him but to no avail.
“Tell me.” He likes how you struggle under his scrutinising gaze.
“It’s… it’s not appropriate.”
“Say it. Now.”
You lower your voice, “They said you like to use the girls. The pogue girls. Th-That you have a kink for them.”
The scandalous words have hardly left your mouth before you duck your head down as if embarrassed. God, you were so fucking innocent. Rafe wonders how he should play this.
“Huh. Is that so?”
“Y-Yeah. One of the girls I talk to… She said that you…” you swallow, biting your lip, “that you’ve been with her and all her friends too. That you tell them all the same thing but it’s always a lie and you just end up using them.”
Rafe nods, “Hmm.”
“I’m sorry, Rafe, but I don’t think we should—“
“That’s funny. I thought you were smart. You know, with all your books and the glasses and shit.”
You blink, “What?”
He shrugs, “I didn’t think you’d go ahead and pass judgement on someone without even getting to know them first.”
“It’s not that–”
“I mean, here I am, wanting to be friends with you. And I’ve been nothin’ but nice, haven’t I?”
He’s still got you backed into a corner, and he watches as you flinch when he emphasises his words. He knows people get intimidated by his intensity, but there’s nothing he hates more than people talking shit behind his back. Especially low-life Pogues. And he likes how scared you look right now, pouty lips all downturned and alarm in your eyes.
“I asked you a question, homeschool.”
“Yes, you’ve been nothing but nice! It’s just, I heard all these things, and–”
“And you chose to believe them.” He steps back abruptly, “I’ll see you around, I guess.”
He walks away, about to count to three in his head but you beat the count before he can even begin.
“Rafe, wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to judge you.”
He stops, allows you to catch up.
“You’re right, I…I shouldn’t listen to other people.”
“You shouldn’t.” Rafe agrees, easily taking your heavy textbooks from where you’ve been balancing them in your arms. You gape, but he just continues smoothly: “Where’s your next class?”
You tell him, “But you don’t have to walk with me or anything–”
“I’m your friend, homeschool. That’s what friends do.”
*
Day 3. You’re eating your lunch on a bench outside all by yourself. Rafe’s heading to his car with his friends. They usually cut classes most days to hit the beach or the country club. Rafe doesn’t see the point of college anyways, not when he was poised to inherit all of his father’s businesses, money and property. And with the ideas he had, he’d expand tenfold on whatever Ward was doing now, make a shit ton more money than his old man ever did. That would show him…
”How’s the bet coming along, Rafe?” Topper asks.
“Wait till the end of the week.” Is all Rafe says. He doesn’t need to give progress reports to his dumb fuck ass follower friends.
“That means he’s nowhere near cracking that virgin pussy.” Kelce chuckles. “No worries, brother. She looks like she’s got a stick up her ass anyways. Not loose like the rest of the Pogue whores.”
He ignores them as they laugh. But they’re right. You’re not like the rest of the Pogue girls. They’d grown up wild, promiscuous, loose. Trained to catch the attention of a rich Kook like himself, filled with self-serving motivations to marry into money. But he can already tell you’re different. With your cute little outfits and respectful, quiet demeanour. You look like you’d fit in where he was from.
Too bad he was only going to fuck you before discarding you like he did the rest of them.
“I’ll catch you guys later.” He says, making a beeline for you.
“Hey,” he chucks you under the chin, smirking when you jump.
“Oh, hey Rafe.” You look beyond his shoulder, “Your friends are all leaving.”
“Yeah. The waves are good this time of day.”
You gape, “But don’t you have classes?”
He takes a seat next to you, making sure to stretch out while you shrink into yourself. Still so nervous around him. He snickers, “You gonna tell on us?”
You look aghast, “No! I would never–”
“I’m just kidding, homeschool.”
“Oh,” you look embarrassed, “Sorry. Sometimes I–”
“Can’t tell if someone’s joking or not,” Rafe completes, “I remember. I’ll be more straight up with you.”
You nod, and he can tell you’re trying to think of something else to say. But you’re too nervous, too awkward. And so you just bury your head in your book again, all while he watches you. You’ve got a bottle of apple juice and a half-eaten sandwich of some kind on the table next to you. Cut up into little triangles. He bets you’ve done it yourself. Fuckin’ cute.
“You dress cute.” He says, and again, widened Bambi eyes stare up at him. He chuckles, “You know, the little skirts and plaid and shit. It’s cute.”
“Thank you.”
“You do it on purpose?” He can’t help but ask, because he wonders if a part of you knows what you’re doing. Knows you’re dressing like a sexy little angel out of his wettest dreams. All little and cute and innocent, so much smaller than him. Weak. All pastel and pretty, like you’d look so fucking sexy on the back of his bike. On his arm. On his dick.
“I don’t know what you mean by that,” you say, sounding every bit as innocent as you look. Damn, homeschool must’ve done a number on you. But he likes how sheltered you sound. It gets him so fucking hard, and a part of him almost feels sorry for how primed you are to be taken advantage of. “I wear my mom’s old clothes, or stuff I find in the charity shops.”
He’d had maids and housekeepers who shopped in places like that. He remembers him and his siblings giving them their old clothes once they’d grown out of them.
He nods, “You look pretty.”
Your breath hitches, and you really don’t know how to respond to that, because you slam your book shut and stand up, “I, uh, I have to go. I don’t want to be late for my next class.”
He watches you leave, distracted by your ass again but not enough to miss the little smile that quirks on your lips as you bid him farewell and walk away.
*
On day 4, Rafe walks up behind you in the busy hallway, pressing his huge hand on your lower back and pushing you into another secluded corner. He smirks when you squeak, but he likes how easily he can push you around because of how weak and small you are.
“Hey.” He told himself he’d take it slow (well, as slow as he could take it in the span of one week) and yet he can’t help but press into you a little bit. It’s innocuous enough, but your eyes widen as per usual, and the feel of your hot little body against his much larger one is enough to give him a boner. It’s how he could easily push you into an empty lecture hall and have his way with you if he so wanted to. Sure, you’d cry and resist at first, but they all gave in in the end. And if someone caught them, he’d pay them off.
Rafe Cameron owned the world. Nothing could stop him.
“Hello, Rafe.” You breathe, and he loves how his name sounds when you say it. He imagines you moaning it when he has you on his lap, pressing you down on his dick while you cry and whimper because it’s too much, it’s too big. But your greedy little virgin pussy would take every inch of his fat dick, and he’d do all the work, of course. You’d be too busy crying, and he’d bounce you up and down on his dick while you grabbed at his arms, his hair, his face. He’d tell you to scrape your nails down his back, leave a fucking mark or two so daddy could remember you.
“Come for a drive with me? I’ll buy you lunch.”
Despite your shyness, a fire flashes in your eyes, “I can buy my own lunch!”
He raises an eyebrow. As if on cue, you lower your gaze.
“Sorry, I mean… thank you for your offer, Rafe. But I can buy my own lunch.”
Surprisingly though, you agree to the drive. And he still has his hand pressed against your back, guiding you out to where his car’s parked. You ogle at it, probably never having seen anything as expensive. He wonders if your family even owns a car, or if you even know how to drive. It would be hot if you didn’t, it made you look even more helpless. In need of someone like him to protect you, take care of you. Someone powerful and wealthy like himself.
“Wow, I’ve never been on this side of the island before!” You say, oohing and aahing as you stare out the window. Rafe’s never seen anyone so easily excited by the neighbourhood he’d grown so used to. But he supposes the mansions, sports cars, country clubs and private beaches would be impressive to anyone who hadn’t grown up with easy access to all of that.
“No?”
“No, but my brother’s friend works there, I think.” You point to the vast golf course at the back end of one of the clubs. “He says the tips are really good.”
Rafe frowns. You were talking to other men? No, not you. You were too sweet, too innocent. He was sure he was the only man you spoke to. Or even if you were speaking to others, he doubts a golf caddy pathetically running after balls would be much competition. And yet, he bristles, wanting to change the subject.
“Do you have a job?” Rafe asks.
You shake your head, “No. I sometimes tutor some kids in the neighbourhood but nothing permanent. I’d love to have a part-time job with proper wages like the country club or library or something, but my family’s kind of protective of me.”
“Mm?” He’s deliberately being quiet, wanting to hear you talk, wanting to learn more about you.
“Yeah. That’s why I was homeschooled. My mom’s scared someone’s gonna take advantage of me.” You pause, before giggling, “It took a lot to convince her to let me apply for colleges, but I think she’s finally starting to see me as an adult who can make my own decisions and protect myself.”
The irony isn’t lost on Rafe, but he finds himself leaning closer. You have this way of talking, so soft and breathy, yet energetic and full of life at the same time. Like you’re a storybook character, like you’re someone out of this world. Like an angel dropped down from heaven and sent just for him. You’re his type to a tee. God, he wants to fuck you so bad.
“What would your mom say if she knew you were out with me?” His hand creeps up to rest on your knee. You’re wearing jeans, which he doesn’t approve of but he decides to give you a pass since it’s windy today.
You don’t notice his touch anyways; you’re too busy pondering over his question. But there’s a glint in your eye, “Sh-She wouldn’t approve. But that’s only ‘cause she doesn’t know you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, his thumb rubbing circles against the denim of your jeans. “And you do?”
You swallow, finally realising he’s got his hand on you. Surprisingly, you don’t move. It’s almost like you’re frozen, those big fuck me Bambi eyes making a comeback, “Uh…I…We’re friends, aren’t we?”
He smirks, “Yeah. Friends.” His hand creeps up higher, stroking your thigh softly, wishing you were wearing one of your little skirts so he could feel your bare skin. But it’s thrilling anyways, touching your quivering body while you’re defenceless inside his car. He could lock the doors and have his way with you right now. Hell, people outside would get quite the show but it wouldn’t be the first time he’s fucked in public.
Poor little you. Losing your virginity in the front seat of his car. He’d drag you into his lap, bounce you up and down on his cock. But not before making you beg for it first. And you’d cry so fucking bad, because it would hurt. Because he’d promise he’d be gentle but he knows himself, he knows he’d lose control like he always did. Fuck you so goddamned hard, he’d have to lay you down in the backseat afterwards because you wouldn’t be able to stop shaking. Then drive you back to his house, carry you into his bed and have his way with you again. And again. And again.
“Rafe?”
“Yes?”
“You’re not hanging out with me because you feel sorry for me, are you?”
That grabs his attention, “Why would you think that?”
You shrug, “No reason. I just… Well, you have so many friends. I guess I don’t quite understand why you’re hanging out with me.”
“I like you.” He shifts even closer, his hand steadily stroking your leg while you remain stiff, “Do you like me?”
“H-Huh?”
“You heard me, homeschool.” And yet he knows you’re distracted by his fingers tracing shapes on your thigh. Not random shapes, though. It’s his initials. Over and over again. R.C., he wonders if you can tell.
“I, uh, y-ye–” You’re having trouble getting your words out, and it amuses him. He can see you visibly shaking, and he wonders if it’s out of fear or anticipation. Or both. He leans down, bringing his face close to yours.
“I didn’t quite get that.” He licks his lips at how weak and intimidated you look. “Say it again.”
It’s an order, and you clear your throat, shake your head as if to clear your thoughts.
“Yes,” you whisper, as if it’s something scandalous, “Y-Yes, I like you.”
He pulls back abruptly, leaving you gaping at him.
“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”
He buys you a panini from a little artisan bakery, with a strawberry iced tea and a packet of chocolate hearts with a cherry cream filling. You protest at first, unzipping your bag to pay for yourself, but he’d sooner roll over and die than let a woman pay for anything.
“Toss me one,” he says, and you throw a little cherry-filled truffle at him. He catches it between his teeth, and your eyes light up, clearly impressed.
“Wow, that was cool!”
“C’mere, you’ve got a little something…” He grabs your chin gently, pulling you forward before rubbing his thumb against the side of your lip, wiping away a bit of chocolate. “Messy girl.”
Your breath hitches, but you stay still for him like a good little girl. His thumb lingers, and he wants to press it into your mouth, make you suck the chocolate off it. Then tell you he had something else for you to suck on. Push you down and make you warm his cock with your mouth while he drove you back to campus. One hand on the steering wheel, the other pressing your head down, making you take his big cock despite you whimpering and panicking because you can’t breathe.
He rubs your lower lip with his thumb for a moment before pulling away. You clear your throat, snapping out of whatever reverie you’ve been in, straighten up against the seat and put your seatbelt on. You still look like you’re in a daze, however, and he wonders if you’re wet from him wiping your face clean.
“I-uh-we should head back please, if that’s okay?” you say, voice slightly shaky as you avoid eye contact with him. “I don’t want to miss my afternoon class.”
He grins, “You a teacher’s pet?”
That makes you smile, and you shrug shyly. It almost enamours him.
He gets you back to campus on time, and you give him a little wave before you jump out of his car and walk inside. And god, it’s insane how hot you are. Even in your jeans, which have cute little embroidered flowers on the butt. Makes your ass look insane. Like it’s begging to be grabbed, smacked, fucked.
He breathes out heavily through his nose, slumping back against his seat. His dick is uncomfortably hard. God, you didn’t even realise how much you’d teased him tonight. Sitting tight and pretty in the passenger seat of his car, so quiet and pretty. So innocently impressed by Figure 8, and by him. How shy you’d been when you’d admitted that you liked him…
He gets his phone out, blindly texting one of the desperate girls on his phone. He needs a release. And he’d be thinking of you the whole time.
*
On day 5, Rafe tells you to give him your number. From his peripheral, he can see a bunch of Pogues whispering and watching while he takes your phone and puts his number in.
“Have your little friends been talking more shit about me?”
You flinch. He can’t help the intensity of his tone sometimes, and he’s noticed you never swear and, like a jumpy little mouse, probably feel intimidated when he does.
“No, I haven’t really spoken to them in a while.”
Rafe grins, “Yeah?”
“Yes. I’ve been busy with schoolwork.”
He saves his number on your phone before pressing it into your back pocket for you. You gape, eyes darting around to see if anyone saw. He wonders just how prim and proper you are, and how quickly he could get you to come undone once he got you comfortable and behind closed doors.
“You’re not too busy to text me, right?”
You smile, looking down and fidgeting with your binder. He notices you’ve got little stickers on it, like cupcakes and hearts and shit. What a fuckin’ baby.
“Text you? I don’t really– I have to a test tomorrow that I need to study for.”
But he knows you’ll text him. They always did. You weren’t any different.
“What are you smiling at?” Kelce asks, pulling up beside him as Rafe watches you head into your next class.
Immediately, he straightens his face, “Nothing man.”
“You falling for that homeschool freak Pogue?”
He snorts, “You wish. I have standards.”
“You sure about that?”
He whips his head sharply to stare down at his friend, “You want me to repeat myself?”
Rafe doesn’t miss the flicker of fear in Kelce’s eyes. They’d never admit it, but he knows his friends are afraid of him. Of his mood swings, his unpredictability. He doesn’t care. In fact, he prefers it this way. They weren’t like him, they were weak-minded, beneath him. He kept them around because of semantics, because of who their parents were and who his dad was. And because they proved to be minorly useful sometimes when he needed help to get shit done.
All the girls he’d been with had been afraid of him too. When he fucked them, he often lost control. But it turned him on, how they’d swallow their fear in case they offended him, or set him off. Once, he’d fucked a girl who just wouldn’t stop shaking. Sure, he’d showed her his gun right before he’d bent her over, but it was her problem if she was frightened by something as mundane as that.
You weren’t scared of him. Yet. Intimidated, sure. But he’d kept that side of him well under wraps when it came to you. You were too sweet, too pure. And you were a good girl, incapable of crossing him in any form. He didn’t have to scare you to get what he wanted from you. No, you’d give it to him, like the good little girl you were. Naïve, innocent little girl.
*
Rafe: Hey.
Y/N: Hi, Rafe. How are you?
He finds himself smiling at his screen. There’s a party going on downstairs, but Rafe couldn’t care less. It’s the same thing every other night. His friends showing up at his house and bringing along a whole entourage of people he doesn’t give a fuck about. Sarah used to do it a lot before she moved out, invite her fuck ass Pogue friend group into his house as if they were ever welcome there.
Rafe didn’t want any Pogues inside his house. Unless they were girls that he intended to sleep with. But he appreciated it when they showed themselves out once he was done using them.
Rafe: What are you up to?
A minute passes by, then another one. Fuck, he hates that you’re making him wait. What a fuckin’ tease. He wonders for the hundredth time if you’re doing it on purpose. No, not you. You’re too innocent.
Y/N: Nothing, I just finished cleaning my room. Wbu?
It’s insane how the visual of that gets his dick hard in less than a second. The thought of you doing something as domestic as cleaning. The good little college girl, who went home straight after school and spent her evenings dusting and vacuuming or whatever it was that cleaning entailed. Unlike the Kook sluts his friends were probably fucking downstairs. They were pathetic party girls who’d easily spread their legs for a line or two.
He calls you, losing patience with this texting bullshit. He runs a hand through his hair impatiently when you don’t immediately pick up, huffing and gulping down the remaining whiskey in his glass. Slamming it down on his desk when you still don’t pick up. Fucking tease. He grabs a baggie from one of the drawers, prepares a neat line; despite promising himself he wouldn’t do it tonight. Fuck that. Ten seconds have passed; you still haven’t picked up. He snorts it quickly, about to throw his phone out the fucking window, except you choose that moment to pick up.
“H-Hello?”
“Hi,” he sounds slightly breathless, but who the fuck cared. He refills his glass with more whiskey, taking a sip to calm himself down. “Took your time to pick up, huh?”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” you say hastily, “I got distracted.”
He feels a sudden surge of jealousy so violent, he doesn’t know how to act for a moment. Distracted by fucking what?
“The lights went out, so I had to go reset them,” you explain, and he barks out a laugh. Jesus fucking Christ.
“Y-You sound kinda breathless, Rafe,” you say, “Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” He downs his drink and sets it aside before his hand slips down. God, you sound so hot. All breathy and innocent, even just over the phone. “Tell me what you were doing.”
A pause, and then you force out a chuckle, “I told you, I just finished cleaning.”
“What like vacuuming and shit?”
“Yes.”
Over the years, Rafe had slept with a number of maids Ward had hired on multiple occasions. He’d fucked Wheezie’s babysitter a few years ago, the housekeeper too. His father had a knack for hiring hot Pogue girls, and maybe that’s where Rafe’s kink for them started.
He could imagine you working for him – he’d make you wear the sexiest little barely-there maid outfit. You wouldn’t question it because you were too innocent. With your little feather duster, trying to clean except you’d be too small to reach certain areas. Fuck, he wouldn’t last five seconds in the same room as you. And he wouldn’t have to because you’d be his hired help, his property. He’d have you bent over his desk, fuck you so hard till you couldn’t stop shaking, till you were crying like a baby and apologising for not focusing on cleaning all while he carried you up to his bedroom. Locked you up in there so nobody else could see you. His girl. All his.
“Uh, Rafe?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he says.
A pause.
“Really?” You clear your throat, “Where are you? I can hear music.”
“Shit, yeah. Like, there’s a party or whatever going on downstairs. My friends came over unannounced.”
“Oh.” He can sense a level of dejection in your tone. He bets you’re thinking about it, thinking how it’s just a reminder that he has his own group of Kook friends. And you’d never be one of them. You’d never truly fit in. You were either one or the other. Hell, Sarah had proven that when she’d transitioned into the slums. But maybe there was a way to bring you into his world, a way that would stick.
He has to forcibly shake his head to remind himself you’re just part of a stupid bet.
“I’d rather speak to you than them.”
“That’s not true, Rafe.”
“I like how you say my name.” He’s palming his dick now, knowing he’s treading over the line and could easily scare you off now if he’s not careful. But fuck being careful. He’s never really been careful before in his life. He hasn’t had to be. “An’ I’m serious. I told you, I like you.”
“Rafe, I… I just can’t shake the feeling that–”
“That what?” He spits into his palm before resuming touching himself. And shit, he doesn’t know if it’s the drugs or if it’s really just the sound of your voice that’s got him so goddamned horny. He wonders if you’ve ever touched yourself before. If you even knew how to.
“That you’re just playing a big joke on me. I mean, even the people from the Cut think I’m this weird, homeschooled freak.” You laugh, but he can tell you don’t find it funny, “It’s just hard to believe that you’d want to be my friend.”
“They think I’m a freak too,” he says, being honest for once. “Only difference is they don’t talk shit about me because they know I’d kill them.”
“You’re funny, Rafe.”
You’re too innocent to realise he’s not kidding. Not in the least.
“And if anyone says anything about you, I’ll kill them too. I’m serious.” Fuck, he feels like his dick’s gonna goddamn explode. The thought of protecting you like that, like he was responsible for you. Like you were all cute and helpless and he was the one taking care of shit, the one protecting you. That’s all he’s done his whole life, take care of shit and get shit done. And nobody’s ever fucking appreciated him for it.
“Well, thank you, Rafe. I’ve never had anyone stick up for me like that.”
He likes how you keep saying his name now that he’s told you he likes it when you say it. Means you’d be real good at taking instructions. He can imagine telling you what to do when he finally has you in his bed. Order you to get on your hands and knees. Then he’d spread your cute little ass, eat you from the back while you moaned his name over and over, thanking him for taking care of you, weeping how much you appreciate him, how much he means to you. How much you need him.
“A-Are you still there?”
“Shit, yeah. Yeah, I am.” His dick’s red and painfully hard, and he’s still trying to pump it steadily but now he’s imagining your tight little virgin cunt wrapped around it. Soft like velvet, warm and wet. Pulsating around him. Never had even a finger up there but you’d take his big dick, because he owned you, because he was your protector, because you were too weak and helpless without him, and–
“Could you, uh, fuck, say my name again,” he orders you, not caring in the least if he scares you off.
“Rafe?”
He cums into his fist like a goddamned teenage boy, biting down to keep from making any noise. God fucking dammit, you’d listened again. What a good fucking girl. He wants to tell you that, tell you how good you were for him just now, how obedient and submissive you were without even realising it.
“If you’re busy, it’s okay and you can go,” you say softly.
“No, wait…” he clears this throat, grabbing a bunch of tissues from his desk. He can’t believe you hadn’t caught on to him jacking off. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yes?”
“Do you want to come over tomorrow? To hang out?”
“Like, uh, at your house?”
“Yeah.” He needs you in private, needs you on his turf where he can control just about everything. God, was it even about the bet anymore? Or just this newfound fucking irrevocable need to fuck you just for his own personal satisfaction? Maybe both.
“I don’t know, I’ve never been to a guy’s house before.”
That just makes him even more determined to be your first.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun. We can go after your classes finish or whatever, and I’ll drive you home afterwards.”
“Rafe…”
He shuts his eyes for a moment, savouring the sound of your voice. He wonders if he can get you to call him daddy. God fucking dammit, just the idea of that was getting him hard again.
“Look, we’ll order some food, watch TV. Whatever you want. It’ll be fun. And it’s what friends do.”
That last part gets to you. He can tell. He knows how badly you want to have friends. He knows you’ve never had any. Not good, permanent ones like you saw in movies and TV shows. Hell, Rafe’s not sure he himself has real friends. But he doesn’t care. The idea of friendship means nothing to him. He’s best when he’s on his own because nobody else could be trusted. But what is important is having a girl like you in his bed. A girl like you who looks up to him with shining eyes, like he’s your goddamned entire world. A girl he plucked up from poverty and saved, and you’d appreciate him more than anyone in his dumb fucking family ever did.
“Say yes,” he all but orders you, but he already knows the answer before you say it.
“O-Okay, yeah. Yes, that sounds like fun. I’d love to come.”
*
“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Topper frowns, crossing his arms over his chest, “You were supposed to bring the, you know…”
Rafe rolls his eyes, wondering why he’s friends with a fucking loser who can’t even say the word coke. That’s why nobody on the goddamned island wanted to sell to Topper. Hell, even Barry refused to.
“I have plans.” Rafe answers, checking his watch for the tenth time. Your final class of the day was due to end any minute now, and he couldn’t wait to get you into his house.
“What plans? You were gonna help me with Sarah tonight.” Topper was a whiny fucking bitch, but even Rafe had to admit he was a better fit for his sister than that lowlife John B.
“I’m not helping you with shit, man.” He mutters disinterestedly, although he had promised a few nights ago that he’d help him. He’d been high as a fucking kite, though. So it didn’t exactly count. “Look, she’ll get bored eventually when she realises his broke ass can’t provide shit for her. Then she’ll come crawling back.”
Topper shakes his head, “No, Sarah’s not materialistic like that.”
Rafe smirks, “You don’t know her.”
“Well, speaking of broke, how’s it going with that homeschool girl? You guys sure seem to be hanging out a lot.”
“Do you have brain damage, Topper?”
“What?”
Rafe corners his friend against a wall, relishing the immediate fear in his eyes, “I seem to remember you placing a bet a week ago.”
“Well, yeah, but –”
“So why the fuck,” he hits the locker lightly behind Topper’s head, “are you asking me about hanging out with her a lot?”
“Chill, dude. It’s just,” he looks hesitant, scared as he’s barely able to make eye contact, “It’s okay if you like her, you know?”
Rafe feels a wave of emotion, something he can’t quite pinpoint. And that makes him mad, because what the fuck was he feeling? He has to clench his fists by his side to stop from slapping the taste out of Topper’s mouth. Why did him bringing you up irritate him so much? Jesus, reign it the fuck in.
He takes a deep breath and steps back, forcing a chuckle, “You think I’m gonna slum it like that?”
Topper grins nervously, as if Rafe hadn’t had him pinned against a locker like a little bitch just a second ago. He straightens up, “I mean, it’s not exactly a secret what your type is.”
Rafe laughs, and Topper relaxes and joins in after a moment or two. That’s when Rafe slams him against the locker again.
“Get it through your thick fucking skull, Topper. I may fuck a Pogue but I’d never date one. Got that?”
“Yes, okay, Jesus Christ, man.” Topper pushes Rafe off him and backs off, “Do whatever the fuck you want.”
That’s when Rafe starts laughing again. “I will, pussy.”
Topper fucks off after that. Sometimes, Rafe wonders what his deal is. He acted up in front of the rest of the group, then tried to act all sensitive and understanding in private. Like Rafe had time for that shit. And how dare Topper insinuate that Rafe had feelings for you? Hell would freeze over before he ever caught feelings for a Pogue.
He realises a bunch of people are staring at him. Goddamit. Fuck all of them. When he was younger, Ward had sent him to see a therapist once a week. He’d quit going once he’d realised it was everyone else who was the problem, and not him. But one thing the shrink had taught him that had stuck was to breathe slowly and count to ten whenever he felt angry or overwhelmed.
That’s what he’s doing when you arrive.
“Hey, Rafe. I’m sorry I’m late. The professor held me back.”
“Why?” He barks out before he can contain himself. He’s already on edge, and now some dumbass professor is keeping you back in class because you undoubtedly get his old, shrivelled dick hard and you’re too innocent to even realise it.
You blink, “He really liked the essay I submitted last week. He even said he wants to use it as an example for his other classes!”
“That’s great,” Rafe plasters a smile on his face but he’s only half listening, “Let’s go.”
He calms down some as he guides you out of the hallway and toward the parking lot. He almost grabs your hand when it gets a bit too crowded, but remembers himself just in time. He couldn’t be caught holding hands with a Pogue. It was too intimate, and like he’d said to Topper, he’d never let it get to that point with a Pogue. Instead, he places his hand on your lower back and pushes you forward. You smile at him, and it goes straight to his… well, not his dick, surprisingly. But it goes somewhere within him, and he feels it again. Something he doesn’t really recognise or know how to deal with. So he forcibly pushes it back inside himself.
“You look cute,” he says once he’s got you outside and there’s more room to breathe. You look like an angel in the afternoon sunlight, dressed in the cutest little sundress he’s ever seen. It’s this pinkish-orange, like the colour of the sunset, and you’ve got matching ribbons in your hair. Like you’ve really made an effort to get all dressed up just to go to his house.
“Thanks,” you look down as if you’re embarrassed, like you don’t know how to take a compliment, “It’s my mom’s dress.”
“It’s really pretty,” he says softly, before clearing his throat and looking away.
He gets you to his car, lifting you up by your waist and helping you into it. And that turns him on so much, how small and sweet you look. Like a little fairy in his arms. None of the other girls were like you. Not at all. He wonders what you’re wearing underneath, and feels his cock thicken in his slacks with anticipation when he realises he was probably going to find out today.
You don’t say anything when he pulls up into the driveway of his house. Ward had fucked off on some business trip and taken Wheezie and Rose with him so he had the place to himself. That’s how he liked it best, it gave him space to think and breathe without the constant noise of his family. Well, Wheezie was an exception. He didn’t mind her too much.
“Wait here,” he says, getting out the car and walking around to open the door for you. You allow him to lift you out again, this time your hands landing on his shoulders. And it’s fucking insane how that tiny, voluntary touch does things to him that no other girl has ever done before.
Now, he doesn’t think twice before grabbing your hand and pulling you down to the large, ornate wooden double doors. You’re distracted anyways, eyes wide as saucers as you ogle the mansion that Rafe’s never thought twice about. But he reckons it’s a step or two above whatever shacks the people from the Cut lived in, so he allows you to remain silent and let it sink in.
Finally, you exhale slowly, “This is… uh… wow. I can’t believe there’s people in this world who live like this.”
Rafe smirks, squeezing your hand, “Yeah. Do you want a drink?”
He leads you to the bar in the corner of the living room, again lifting you up and placing you on one of the stools. You giggle, “I can climb on myself, you know.”
“Yeah? You seem to like it when I pick you up, though.”
He winks, and notes how you duck your head and smile shyly, your hands wringing together on your lap like you’re nervous. God, you were so fucking cute.
“What’s your usual drink of choice?” He asks, going behind the island to inspect the liquor. His friends had gone through a lot of it at the party the night before, but the house help had restocked everything this morning.
You blink, “Um, water?”
He stifles a laugh, pouring himself his usual whiskey with ice, “You’re a good girl, huh?”
“I tried some of my mom’s wine once but it tasted horrible,” you shrug, “I don’t know why people like it so much.”
“Try this.” He pours you a Peach Schnapps with lemonade and ice, “It’s sweet like you.”
You hesitate, but end up taking it. And he watches as you take a tentative sip, and he knows you like it because you take another one. And then another. He can’t help but feel proud for introducing you to your first alcoholic drink.
“You’re not as bad as people say you are,” you say out of nowhere, and his expression immediately sours.
“People have been talking about me to you?”
“No, it’s just the stuff I’ve heard. Like what I told you before. But it can’t be true, because you’re so nice to me so it just doesn’t add up.”
He grips his glass tight, about to lose it because yet again people were talking shit about him behind his back and never to his fucking face. Because they were all a bunch of pussies who knew he’d beat the shit out of them or kill them if they said anything to his face. But then you speak again.
“Do you always drink after school?”
“Huh?”
“Like, alcohol. Do you drink a lot? Like every day?”
“No.” He lies. “Only sometimes.”
He takes you out to the patio, where the sun is shining and you look so fucking pretty in your little sundress. Like you fit right into his world, next to the pool with a drink in your hand, sat next to him and looking at him with sparkling eyes as if he was your god. He wonders if you’ve naturally grown more comfortable with him through the course of the week, or if it’s just the alcohol. Probably the alcohol, since no one was ever really comfortable around him.
Either way, he puts his hand on your leg just like he had a few days ago in his car. Your breath hitches, but you don’t make a move to stop him. Instead, you opt to take another sip of your drink, and he wonders if he can get you drunk tonight. Shit, did he even want to? It was no fun fucking a drunk girl.
“Tell me more about you,” he strokes the soft skin of your bare thigh, feeling your goosebumps underneath the pads of his fingers. “You ever had a boyfriend or anything?”
Your eyes widen, “No. I, uh, you don’t tend to meet any guys when you’re homeschooled.” Embarrassed, you giggle before looking away. He reaches out, grabbing your chin lightly and making you look at him again. Fuck, your lips were so sexy. So pouty and perfect, begging to be kissed. “What about…what about you? Have you had any girlfriends?”
He shrugs, “A few.”
You nod, “Of course you have. That was a stupid question. Sorry, I forget not everyone’s as far behind in life as I am.”
“You’re not far behind.” He says, although you are and he prefers it that way.
“I am. Every other girl my age has had all the experiences you’re supposed to have. Drinking, partying, boys, all of it.” You sigh, “Sometimes I feel like I’m so far behind that I’ll never catch up.”
Rafe inches his hand upwards, till he reaches the hem of your dress halfway up your thigh. He plays with the fabric, and he can tell you’re acutely aware of what he’s doing. You don’t make a move to stop him, but you do press your legs together.
“There’s still plenty of time to catch up,” he says softly, “I can help you.”
You smile up at him, holding up your drink, “You already have. I’d never drank with friends before now.”
“Congratulations,” he says, clinking his glass with yours, “To one of many firsts.”
He downs his drink and so do you, and he’s quick to get a refill for both of you. He’s guessing you’re a lightweight, and again the thought of getting you drunk crosses his mind. But that would be way too easy.
“I’m capping you after this one,” he says, handing you your second Peach Schnapps.
You giggle, “Are you gonna cap yourself too?”
“No.” He chucks you under the chin again, “But, see, I’m not a baby.”
“Hey!”
He kisses you. And shit, he hadn’t planned on catching you so off-guard. Hell, he’s caught himself off-guard. But he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help how kissable your lips looked, all pouty and bitten. And you taste like cherry lip gloss mixed with peaches and lemonade, and you’re so pliant underneath him, and he’s kissed a shit ton of girls but it’s never felt like this.
You pull away with a start, shocked as you stare up at him. Breathing hard and biting your goddamned lips before they turn into the shape of an o.
“I’m sorry,” Rafe says, although he’s not, “I’ve been wanting to do that since the day I first saw you.”
Your breathing is shallow, and with a shaky hand you put your glass down on the crystal table in front of you. “I’ve never, uh, I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“Well, it’s easy. I could show you.”
You swallow, “I don’t want this to be like, a pity thing.”
Rafe exhales slowly, “You’re here in front of me in this tiny fuckin” dress, acting all cute and innocent and you think I want to kiss you out of pity?”
Your jaw drops, “Hey, it’s not tiny!”
He kisses you again. And sure, maybe he should’ve asked permission since it’s, well, your first kiss. But frankly he’s never had to ask permission to do anything in his entire life, and he wasn’t about to start now. The way he sees it, you wouldn’t have worn a slutty dress and agreed to come to his house if you didn’t want him to make a move on you.
Again, you pull away, “Rafe, I– don’t… I don’t know how to kiss, I’m sorry–”
He cups your face in his hands, pulling you closer and pressing his lips against yours again. Just to feel your soft, quivering lips against his confident ones. He kisses you once, twice, three times. Coaxing you to open your mouth, to let him in. Fuck, a part of him just wants to shove his tongue down your fucking throat, show you what it means to really be kissed. But he’s already pushing his luck right now.
“I’ll teach you,” he says, “But you need to do exactly what I say, okay?”
He can’t believe his goddamned luck when you nod. God, you were just so fucking hot, prancing around his house in your little dress, all impressed by his riches and shit, drinking your drink he made you like a good little girl, and now here you were, agreeing to whatever he said.
He taps his leg, “Get on my lap.”
Your eyes nearly bug out of your head, “Wh-What?”
Rafe smirks, “Didn’t you just agree to do exactly what I say?”
He’s surprised with the amount of patience he has with you. If you were another girl, he’d have thrown your ass out to the curb for asking too many annoying questions. Or bent you over, shoved your face into a pillow to shut you up and had his way with you. God knew he’d done that more times than he could count over the years. He was aware of how much bigger and stronger he was than you and every other girl, and that fact turned him on more than anything. The fact that he could, if he wanted to, completely take advantage of you however he wanted. And all you’d be able to do is cry and beg him to stop, which would just turn him on more.
“I did, I’m sorry, but I don’t–”
Easily, he grabs your hips and lifts you up onto his lap, makes you straddle him with one leg on either side of him. Your dress is just about long enough to still cover your modesty, but now he’s acutely aware of your panty-covered pussy just inches away from reach. Fuck, he wonders what kind of panties you’re wearing, and if you’d let him look…
“There. Comfy?”
“Well, I guess, but…”
He pulls you into another kiss, this time catching you mid-sentence so he’s able to slip his tongue into your mouth. And you’re so fucking shy, just rigid while he explores your mouth. But he doesn’t mind. You taste so fucking sweet, and it’s getting him so hard, knowing he’s the first man you’ve let touch you like this, kiss you like this.
He can feel your breath hitch as he strokes your face, his thumbs running across your cheeks before his hand tangles into your hair. He yanks you closer, grazing his teeth against your plump bottom lip. You gasp, and he chuckles into your open mouth. His tongue plays with yours, coaxing you to kiss him back, but not really caring too much if you don’t.
And god, he wants to thrust up into you so bad. You’re sitting right on top of his fucking hard dick, and you don’t even seem to realise it. In fact, you shift around, that cute little peachy ass rubbing against his boner, and he wonders if you even know what a boner is.
When you pull away this time, your eyes are bright and excited. And he loves how he’s kissed the gloss off your lips, and how he can still taste you on his tongue.
“Wow, that was…” you giggle, breathless yet excited from finally having your first kiss, “I don’t have anything to compare it to, but that was good!”
Rafe has to crack a smile at your innocence, and his hand lands on your bare thigh, tracing his initials on it again, “Yeah? You like kissing me?”
“I…um… yeah I do,” you say shyly, before closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, “Could we uh, could we try again? Could I try?”
Well, shit. He’s never devoted this much time and energy into just kissing a girl, but his dick grows even harder at how you’ve plucked up the courage to ask him that. And so he simply nods and sits back, lets you figure out what it is you want to do.
Your cute little hands hold on to his broad shoulders shyly. And you lean up, fluttering your eyes closed like it’s some kind of fairytale for you and you’re the little princess kissing her prince charming. It’s part enamouring, part pathetic. But Rafe feels it again, that unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in his chest. He shakes out of it, focusing on your plump lips that hesitantly press against yours.
He sits still; lets you explore his mouth. Your tongue pokes out, swipes against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick. And then he’s kissing you back, because he doesn’t have the goddamned willpower to just sit there and do nothing. There’s an animal inside of him and you’ve awoken it, more than any drug or alcohol ever could.
And he gets rougher, biting your lip till you gasp into his mouth. His hands slip up and down your bare arms before he takes your hand, squeezes it before pressing it down on his chest, wanting you to touch him, feel how much bigger he is than you.
“Good girl,” he mutters when you don’t move your hand, and then he fingers the hem of your dress. “Gonna let me touch you a little bit?”
“Rafe, maybe not too much–”
“C’mon, princess, you have to touch while you’re making out, right? That’s lesson number two.” He distracts you with another rough kiss, grabbing your jaw and squeezing while he brings you closer to his mouth. Kissing down your jaw and neck before returning to your lips, smirking when you squeak out a little involuntary moan. That’s when he slips his hand up your dress and cups your ass. Perfect little handful of your bubble butt, and he gives it a little squeeze to test the waters. You’re too distracted with kissing him, and so he squeezes harder. God, so fuckin’ soft and pliable, just like how he’d imagined.
“Nice ass,” he murmurs against your lips, and that’s what jolts you out of it. He curses inwardly when you pull away, pushing against his chest when he doesn’t immediately stop. And a part of him knows how easy it would be to just pin you down on this fucking sofa and have his way with you. Tell you how it’s your fault for wearing this fucking dress, your fault for seducing him in his own home, acting so sexy and innocent and getting him so riled up. Teasing him with your shy little kisses and squeaks till he had no choice but to hold you down and fuck you.
“I’m sorry,” you say as you slide off his lap, straightening your dress, “I just… I got overwhelmed.”
He blinks, and he’s this close to pulling you back on top of him, telling you he didn’t give you permission to stop, that you had to listen to him because this was his house and he’d been kind enough to invite you over. And he could make you feel so good, if you just stopped being a goddamned little prude.
Instead, he forces a smile, “You’re a pretty good kisser for someone who claims she’s never done it before.”
You beam, relaxing immediately, “Oh, you’re just saying that. I bet I was really bad.”
“My memory’s kinda foggy, I think you’re gonna have to remind me,” he pulls you back into him, and you giggle as he presses light kisses on your lips, his arm going around your shoulders while your hands tangle into his hair.
It doesn’t go any further than that, though. You stop him when he tries to touch you again, and a part of him wants to slam his fist down on the glass patio table in frustration. And yet, something stops him from just overpowering you and taking what he wants. No, that would be too easy. He’s about to crack you, he can tell from the way you look at him with those big eyes, now full of trust and comfort. He just needs more time.
Too bad he only had one day left to complete the goddamned bet.
“You should come over again,” he says when he’s done up your seatbelt for you in his car. He finds he likes doing all that shit – opening the door for you, lifting you into your seat, clicking your seatbelt into place, all of it. A stark difference from other girls, where often he’s tossed their clothes at them and motioned for them to leave after he’s done hooking up with them.
“That sounds nice,” you say, waiting for him to come round and get into the driver’s seat, “And I told you; you don’t have to drive me all the way home. I could’ve just got the bus.”
He blinks. He didn’t realise buses even functioned in Figure 8, but either way, he can’t have you on a public bus. Especially not in that dress, where every man would be leering at you and you’d be none the wiser about it. The control freak in him is itching to be let out, to tell you exactly what you were and weren’t allowed to wear in public, tell you how you weren’t allowed to speak to any men except him. And you weren’t allowed to argue or contest any of this, because he was in charge of you now, and–
“No buses,” he says firmly, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh as he drives, “Anyways, come over again tomorrow. We can go in the pool or whatever.”
He feels you go rigid, “Th-The pool?”
He glances at you, “Yeah. It’ll be fun.”
You laugh nervously, “Uh, I’m not too great with water. I don’t really swim or anything.”
Rafe has to do a double-take, “You realise you live on an island?”
Even he knew that every child born in Kildare could swim before they could even walk. It’s just the way it was. They were surrounded by water. Rafe doesn’t even remember learning how to swim; it was almost like he knew how to do it by default.
“I know how to swim, I just don’t like water,” you say, and there’s something off about your tone. Something he can’t pinpoint, but you turn to the side and look out the window. Silent for the rest of the drive. Rafe doesn’t push it, although your odd behaviour has piqued his curiosity.
It’s only when he’s pulling up into the pitiful dirt road of a street where your house is situated that you clear your throat.
“Look, Rafe, you’re my friend now. And I don’t really like keeping secrets from you. I’m sorry I was so quiet just now.”
Cute. He likes how much you apologise to him. It shows how respectful you are, how much you respected him as an authority figure.
“That’s okay,” he says.
You take a deep breath, “I used to go out in the water a lot when I was younger. With my dad. He had a boat, and I would help him. But…”
Your voice trails off for a moment. Rafe thinks he knows where this is going, and a part of him is touched you’d share something like this with him. A tiny, obscure part of him, that is. He can’t help but squeeze your leg reassuringly, and you clear your throat again and blink several times. Like you’re trying not to cry. And Rafe’s never had the patience for emotional chicks, but it’s different with you.
You force out a little laugh, “I don’t want to go into details. But one time we were out pretty far, and the weather was bad. Like, really bad. The waves were rough and…” You swallow, looking down into your lap and wringing your hands together, your chest rising and falling rapidly, “And… Well, I was fine but… my dad…”
Shaking your head, you don’t say anymore. You don’t have to. Your eyes are wet and glistening, the muscles in your face working overtime to stop the tears from coming out. He parks the car in front of your house, turning to face you. He’s never been in a situation like this before, and he’s not sure how to act.
Fiercely, you wipe away the one or two rogue tears that have escaped down your cheeks, “It happened so long ago, I barely remember it. But I’ve been scared of the water ever since.”
He nods, “It’s just you and your mom now?”
“Yes. And my brothers. But they’re always working, so it’s just me and her. That’s why she’s so protective of me… I, uh, I don’t have a dad anymore.”
Rafe knows what it’s like to lose a parent, but he can’t fathom ever talking about it or voicing his feelings on it or some shit like that. His loser therapist had tried to get him to talk about his mother, but he hadn’t. He couldn’t. It was just muscle memory at this point, to force any thoughts of her straight out of his mind. It was easier that way. And now, it was like he could barely remember her. And he hated it, but it made it easier too.
He’s never been good at comforting anyone else. And a part of him is glad you’re not sobbing your eyes out right now, because he’s not sure how he’d handle that. So he’s happy when you clear your throat again and smile up at him.
“I’m not sure why I told you that, I’ve never had a friend to tell that to before. I guess I just feel comfortable with you, Rafe.”
What the hell had he done to make you so trusting of him in the span of less than a week? God, you were like an innocent little angel, sitting in his car all tiny and vulnerable. Making him feel like a goddamned fucking monster for the thoughts he had towards you, what he planned to do with you. Suddenly, the bet feels so stupid and insignificant. God, this was why Rafe didn’t speak to the women he fucked. They went all emotional on him, and now he wasn’t sure how to act.
“I feel comfortable around you too,” he says carefully. He’s never been great with his words, but he grabs your hands that continue to wring nervously together. His big, warm hand dwarfing your tiny ones, and he realises you’re shaking. And there’s a part of him that wants to protect you against everything. Take you back to his place, lock you up in his room so he could keep an eye on you and keep you away from anything and anyone who could ever hurt you and make you cry.
Even if the only person who could hurt you the most right now is Rafe himself.
You leave after that, thanking him again and again for giving you a lift home. He wants to walk you to your door, but you run off quickly, and his mind’s too distracted to follow you. He drives off once he sees you’ve safely closed your front door behind you, his mind moving a million miles per minute.
Jesus Christ, why’d you have to go and open up to him like that? This would be so much fucking easier if you hadn’t done that. He hates that he should know better, that he knows that he should leave you alone. You were too innocent, too vulnerable for his bullshit; to be caught in the middle of some dumbass bet he’d made with his friends. God dammit, he hates himself for agreeing to that stupid bet, seems so fucking juvenile looking back. Wished he’d picked a different girl at the very least, someone not as lovely a you.
Most of all, he hates himself because he knows that despite everything he’s just found out about you, he still has every intention of fucking you. Daddy issues and a phobia of water. It was almost like fate was handing you to him on a silver platter. He had to fuck you. He’d figure out the rest later.
*
Kelce: One day left, loverboy.
Topper: Can’t wait to see the pictures.
Rafe mutes the groupchat before throwing his phone aside. He’d goddamn throttle his friends if they were in front of him right now. Sometimes, he gets these violent tendencies. He doesn’t really know what to make of them except it feels good to have some kind of release. Usually that comes in the form of pushing around a sorry ass Pogue, but that option’s not really available right now.
Instead, he searches blindly for the coke he’s stashed in his bedside drawer. Again, he’d promised himself he’d cut down, but this was just to take the edge off. It didn’t count. Not really.
He wonders what you’d think if you knew how often he took drugs. Well, you wouldn’t because he’d keep you well away from that part of his life. Even when he made you his girlfriend, he’d keep you separate from all the partying. And he’d never allow you to even look at any type of Class A drug. And who knows, maybe he’d become better for you, maybe he’d go stone cold sober if you wanted him to.
That makes him laugh. Going sober for a Pogue. It was insane of him to even consider it.
Again, he has to remind himself to take his emotions out of it. All you were was a stupid Pogue, and a part of a bet he was going to goddamned fulfil. And he wouldn’t allow himself to think anything more of it. He may have had a momentary lapse of judgement yesterday, but today was a new day, the last day of the week he had to fuck you.
How? He wasn’t too sure. Reports of a storm meant you couldn’t come to his house again like how he’d planned. Even now, Rafe could hear the harrowing winds outside. Like a goddamned cyclone. And the rain pelting down unforgivingly, and the distant roar of the sea, waves crashing like they’d taken on a life of their own.
The weather on the island was usually all sunshine, but once in a blue moon a storm would hit like now. Residents were always told to wait it out and stay inside. For Rafe, that meant copious amounts of drugs and alcohol. Sometimes a girl or two to keep him company. But the idea of fucking anyone that isn’t you right now makes him sick.
He thinks about texting you, but what would be the goddamned point? If he couldn’t physically be with you today? He knows the weak, pussy part of his mind just wants to talk to you in whatever form he can. But he needs to bury that bullshit down deep inside him and never back, and–
His phone vibrates. It’s you. And he hates how he feels his heart jump to his fucking throat. You’ve called him all on your own, which means you were thinking about him like how he was thinking about you.
“Rafe?” You sound sexy like you always do, all breathy and weak and needy. A bit panicked too.
“Hey,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, “What’s up?”
“Hey, calm down.” Rafe barely recognises the gentle quality of his voice as he straightens up, “What’s wrong, princess?”
“I’m scared.”
You say it so softly, with an air of embarrassment and shame, that at first he doesn’t quite get what you’re saying. But then he does, and something kicks in inside him. This innate need to protect you. You sound so small and needy on the phone, and you called him. You need him.
“What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
“No, no. Oh, Rafe, it’s the storm. It keeps getting worse.”
He chuckles in relief that you weren’t in any immediate danger, “Well, shit. Yeah. Looks pretty wild, huh?”
“I hate it,” you whimper softly, “and I’m sorry I called. But my mom’s stuck at work, and my brothers are crashing somewhere else. So it’s just me, and, and…”
“Hey, calm down. It’s okay, you’ll be okay.” He’s never had to comfort anyone before, but it comes naturally with you. “As long as you stay inside, the storm should pass. Just watch TV or something.”
“The lights are gonna go off any second,” you sniffle, “They always do when the weather gets bad.”
They did? Rafe never noticed shit like that. Then again, he doubts you had the luxury of backup generators where you lived. He pauses.
“Gimme twenty minutes. I’ll come over.”
“No!” You say quickly, “Rafe, it’s too dangerous.”
He snorts. He’d been in far more dangerous situations than a little bad weather. But the less you knew about that, the better. “I think I’ll be okay, princess.”
“B-But we’re not allowed out. You’ll get a fine.”
Rafe can’t count on one hand how many times he’d been fined by the dumbass police on this goddamned island over some petty bullshit reason or another. A fine meant nothing to someone with money. He was above the law, and most people on this island knew it.
“Stay put. I’ll see you soon.”
Rafe actually enjoys driving in the storm. The roads are deserted, and he can speed without worrying about anything else. And he does speed, and he runs more than one red light too. Gets to your house quicker than he thought he would. Past all the other tiny shacks all boarded up because they weren’t built well enough to withstand the storm.
“Rafe! You came!”
You sound like a fucking needy little baby, but something pulls at his heart when you hug him harder than you ever have before. And you’re so small, on your tippy toes so your arms reach around his neck. Automatically, his arms wind around your waist and he holds you close, and he can feel you trembling, your face buried in his chest as you hold on to him tightly.
“Yeah. Roads were empty. Didn’t take long.” He mutters, looking around the inside of your house. Pitiful. And pitch black, because you were right, the power had gone out. He hates that you live here. You’d fit in so much better at Tannyhill, in a pretty pink silk dressing gown and dripping with diamonds he’d buy for you. And you’d be so thankful for him, tell everyone that he saved you, how well he took care of you. How he gave you everything you could ever want, and how much you appreciated him.
At that moment, a clap of thunder makes you jump and squeal. Quickly, you pull him inside and shut the door. That’s when he notices that you’re crying.
“Hey, it’s okay. C’mere.” He pulls you into another hug, and he’s never seen another human being look so scared, so vulnerable. It makes him feel so powerful, like the man he knew you needed. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”
It feels natural, his lips pressing a kiss into your hairline. Like you’re his little baby, like he’s been trusted with something so precious and now he has to protect you. And you’re too scared to be your usual jumpy self, and you just snuggle closer into him. A flash of lightning lights up the whole room, the storm relentless against the weak confines of this sorry excuse of a house.
“Maybe we should head back to mine.” He suggests, but you whimper again.
“No, no, we can’t go out there. It’s not safe. Rafe, please.”
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen another human being so scared before. Not even when he was fucking that one girl after he’d showed her his gun. Even now, he consciously tucks his gun further down the waistband of his chinos. Of course he’d brought it with him, he wasn’t going to enter the Cut without a piece on him.
“Okay, okay. We’ll stay here. When’s your mom coming home?”
“Not till tomorrow once the storm’s died down.”
He licks his lips. It was too good to be true.
You’re still holding on to him as you lead him into your bedroom. He wonders why you’d take him straight there, but he guesses it’s your safe place. And you’ve got candles lit up, and they brighten the room enough for him to notice how small it is. The size of a shoebox, with a single bed covered in pink sheets and a bunch of stuffed animals.
Despite everything, his dick hardens.
“You’re a really good friend, Rafe.” You say honestly, “Nobody else would’ve come over like this.”
He shrugs, sitting on the edge of your bed and patting the mattress next to him. It’s not even his house and yet he feels like he needs to take control. And you obey, taking a seat next to him. But you’re preoccupied with your own fear, doing that thing where you fidget with your hands in your lap.
“I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”
You look up at him with wide eyes, biting your lip like you can’t quite believe what he’s said, “I-I’m not special, Rafe, I–”
You’re cut off by another clap of thunder, this one so loud it makes the whole house shake. You scream bloody murder, and honestly, if you were anyone else Rafe would’ve laughed. But it’s you, and so he just watches. It’s fascinating, the way you clutch onto him like he’s your saviour, and he wonders just how this opportunity had basically just fallen into his lap.
He pulls you into his lap, knowing you won’t protest. Not in the state you’re in. You’re wearing a pair of black leggings and a little white tank top. No bra, because he can feel your nipples, hard and poking out from the fabric of your top. He can feel them against his chest as he hugs you again, and he can also feel you shifting on top of him. Your peachy little ass rubbing against his dick like you’re a fucking tease except he knows you’re none the wiser, that you have no idea the effect you have on him.
He’s so turned on, it feels like he might explode.
“I’m sorry,” you apologise for the umpteenth time, “It’s just so scary. Wh-What if the storm gets worse, Rafe?”
“It probably will,” he says, feeling slightly wicked. He holds you tighter against him, wanting to feel the brush of your breasts against his chest again. Fuck, he wants to cop a feel so bad. “They were saying something about a severe weather warning on the news. Not like anything we’ve ever seen before.”
“Noooo,” you moan like a goddamned baby, cuddling into him even more.
“It’s okay,” he says, running his hand up and down your back, “You ever, uh, you ever think of distracting yourself from the storm?”
You hiccup and blink up at him with wet eyes, “Nothing works, Rafe.”
He smirks, “I could distract you.”
“H-How?”
He runs his thumb over your lips. They’re wet with your salty tears, and yet like muscle memory, you part them for him. You watch him in wonder, your breathing shallow as he pushes his thumb into your mouth, his other hand holding you in place by your hip.
“Suck.” He instructs gently, and your eyes are as big as saucers. But in your frightened, vulnerable state, you obey immediately. And it feels like he’ll bust a nut right there, watching as you suck his thumb on command like a little fucking baby. Like he’s your daddy.
“Good girl,” he says, stroking your hair out of your face so he can watch you better. “Now listen to me, I can help you. I can distract you so that you forget all about the storm. Do you want that?”
You nod slowly, almost like you’re entranced by him. Not that he needs the green light from you, but it’s hot to see you agree so easily to whatever he’s saying. Fuck, you really were just like an angel fallen straight from heaven and into his lap. Perfect for him in every single way. So soft, so impressionable. Completely untouched. Ready to be ruined.
“That’s good,” he mutters vaguely, thinking of everything he was going to do to you. He takes his thumb out of your mouth, noticing how you pout involuntarily, like you’d gotten used to the feeling of sucking on it. Fuck, he could give you something else to suck on. “Give me a kiss.”
“H-Huh–”
“Do it. Just like how I taught you yesterday. You remember our lesson, don’t you?”
You nod, “Yeah, but will that really work? I mean–”
It’s like God himself is on Rafe’s side because there’s a loud boom of thunder at that exact moment. And you jump in his lap, tears welling in your eyes. Your chest rises up and down, and you bite your lip again, your gaze zeroing in on his mouth. Slowly, you lean up, shyly pressing your lips on his. But there’s a desperation to it, and Rafe’s returning kiss completely envelopes you whole.
He makes out with you for a while, smirking through your little pants and moans mixed with a whimper every time the weather gets especially brutal outside. He’s never been with such a goddamned scaredy cat baby before in his entire life, and it turns him on beyond belief. In the state you’re in, he could get you to do anything.
Rafe’s hands slip up to grab your little top, tugging it upwards. And this time, he almost loses it in frustration when again, you stop him.
“Rafe, Rafe no stop.” You push his hands off, straightening your top back over your midriff. “Couldn’t we just… just kiss?”
He presses his lips together in a thin line, “You trust me?”
“Of course, I just don’t know if I want to–”
“Look, didn’t I say I would distract you? I mean, shit, I could just leave.”
Your jaw drops, a flash of fear glimmering in your eyes. Instinctively, you grab onto his bicep with your tiny hands, a pleading look on your face, “No, don’t!”
He smirks, “I won’t leave. But you need to trust me to do what I need to do to distract you. Because the storm’s just gonna get worse.” He grabs your chin when you avert your gaze, forcing you to look at him, “Hey, c’mon. Who has more experience with this shit, you or me?”
“Y-You.”
“Yeah. And who’s older?”
“You are.”
“That’s right. Which means you need to trust me to make these kinds of decisions, because I know what’s best for you. That’s why you called me over, right?”
You don’t say anything, but this time when he tries to take your top off, you don’t protest. And Jesus fucking Christ, he was right. You’re not even wearing a bra, almost like you were deliberately trying to seduce him. Acting like a whiny little damsel in distress, pulling him into your pitiful little pink room, all candlelit and shit, on your little bed with your stuffed fucking animals.
Your nipples are hard, and he can’t help but cup your breasts. They’re so tender, so soft just like you. He’d imagined this exact moment many times over the course of the week whilst he’d jacked off to you, but nothing could compare to now. The way you tremble beneath his touch, knowing no one’s ever touched you like this before. He squeezes gently, watching how your breath hitches.
He’s overcome with animalistic instinct in just a second, and leans down to take your breast into his mouth. Sucks your nipple sweetly, before biting down. You cry out, arching your back so prettily, feeding him more of your nipple as you push it into his mouth. He bets you probably don’t even understand why it feels so good, having never been touched like this ever before.
He pinches your other nipple and you gasp. He smirks and does it again, looking up at you to see you gazing imploringly down at him.
“Th-That hurts,” you say pitifully.
“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” He takes your hands in his, bringing them up to his hair. Like a good little girl, you get the message. Your hands fist into his hair as he continues to play with your tits, licking and sucking all over them, pushing them together, biting your nipples and sucking the sensitive skin around them, wanting to leave his mark everywhere.
“Rafe, I, that… oh… oh my–”
“Stand up, baby.”
You squeak at the pet-name that falls so naturally from his lips, and he can tell you like being called that. It’s from the way your eyes widen, and how you scramble to obey. God, you were a little tease but you took instructions so fucking well.
You stand between his legs, and it gets him so fucking hard that you’re still barely eye level with him even when he’s sat down.
“Take your leggings off.”
You open your mouth to argue, but this time he just flashes you a look and you’re quick to shut the fuck up. That, and he distracts you with his hands running up and down your sides, squeezing your waist, then your hip. Finally landing on your ass with a light slap as if to tell you not to keep him waiting.
You push your leggings down and step out of them, till you’re standing between his legs in just your pink flowery panties and nothing else. And he feels a hunger he’s never ever felt before, looking down at you ravenously as if you’re a piece of meat and he’s a goddamned starved lion. A part of him just wants to grab you and stick his cock inside you while you scream and thrash and beg him to stop while you secretly enjoy it and cum again and again.
“Turn around,” Rafe says slowly, because despite his animalistic thoughts, he wants to savour this. And you do, letting him see your sexy butt adorned in just your panties. He hooks his thumb under the elastic, snapping it against your skin and laughing crudely when you yelp. “God, you’ve got such a perfect ass. I knew that since the moment I saw you.”
“Wh-What?”
“You heard me. You’re always wearing the cutest little outfits, like you were showing it off just for me.” He grabs your left ass cheek, squeezing it hard while you moan in pain or pleasure, right now he doesn’t really give much of a fuck. His other hand palms his cock through his pants at the sight.
“I wasn’t!” You say indignantly, as if he’s accused you of the absolute worst. “I wasn’t showing off, Rafe!”
“Sure you weren’t,” he snorts, “Now bend over, lemme see it better.”
He can’t believe it when you don’t hesitate this time, almost like you’re seeking his approval. Like you’re under some kind of submissive spell now, making everything even easier for him. You bend over, and your cute little ass is directly in his face. He pushes your panties to the side, gives the soft flesh a feather-light kiss before spanking you again. You yelp all cutely, but stay in position for him. What a good fucking girl.
“Stand up straight, look at me again.”
You turn back around, biting your lip as you look at him anxiously. Around you, the whole room seems to vibrate as another boom of thunder strikes. You make a noise in your throat, before grabbing onto his bicep again. You keep doing that, and it makes him feel strong, big, important. Like you’re a little baby seeking protection from her daddy.
“I’m gonna take your panties off now, okay?” He doesn’t know why he tells you before he does it, but he watches as you relax. There’s a war going on behind your eyes, he can tell. He knows part of you is liking how he’s making you feel, and part of you is desperate to distract yourself from the storm, and it’s battling the part of you that wants to keep your modesty, the part that knows this is a bad idea, that itching fear that he’s not a good guy, that he’s taking advantage of you.
Slowly, he slips your panties down your shaking legs, and you keep holding on to his arm like you’re scared to let go. Like the storm would come and get you the moment you stopped holding him like a little baby. He lets you, liking how weak you feel against him.
And then you’re completely naked in front of him, stepping shyly out of your panties that are left on the floor in a heap along with the rest of your clothes. And he’s still fully dressed, and that juxtaposition turns him on beyond belief. He can smell your pussy, and it’s driving him crazy. Makes him want to just pin you down and have his way with you. It incenses him in a way he’s never really experiences before.
His hands grab your hips, yanking you closer. He feels a wave of impatience, pushing you down till you’re sitting on the bed. He gets up, pushing your legs apart with one of his own. You gasp, and he sinks down to his knees, pressing a soft kiss to the skin just below your belly button.
“It’s time for lesson number three, baby,” Rafe murmurs softly, “this is how I’m gonna distract you, okay? Shit, I’m gonna make you feel so good, you’ll forget all about the storm. You gonna let me do that?”
You swallow, “H-How, Rafe?”
God, you were absolutely clueless. Made him feel like a fucking monster for taking advantage of you like this. But he liked it, liked how good and sweet and innocent you were, even now when he had you naked on your pretty princess bed with your legs spread for him.
“I’m gonna kiss you down here for a while, alright baby?”
“Down there?” You suck in your breath prettily, as if the very idea of that sounds so insane to you. God fucking dammit, just how much had your mother sheltered you?
Instead of explaining further, Rafe spreads your folds with two of his fingers, smirking when he sees you glistening and wet. And God, what a pretty and perfect pussy you had, all slippery and wet, like it was begging to be fucked. And even now, as you sit there breathing heavily, your pussy seems to get wetter just by him spreading it. You’re leaking down onto your pretty pink sheets, and it’s all because he’s merely touched you there.
You’ve gone silent, the storm seemingly already forgotten as you just watch him. Your chest rises up and down, and it’s like every other part of you is frozen in place. In awe, until he notices a slight movement in your pelvis. Involuntarily, you hump the air, like your poor pussy is begging for some type of contact or friction. He smirks.
“You have an accident, princess?”
You look absolutely aghast, “No!”
Rafe leans forward, inhaling deeply. And you smell so goddamned sweet, and he can’t wait any longer. He lays his tongue flat against your virgin cunt, and he can feel you throbbing with anticipation. He licks upwards, and you grab onto his hair, tugging hard as you yelp.
“Oh my God–”
He looks up, “Not God, baby. Just me.” Absentmindedly, he flicks your clit with his thumb and your entire body jerks. He chuckles, “And there’s another thing I’m going to need you to do.”
“What?”
“You’re going to call me daddy while I eat your cunt, okay?”
For the fifth time this evening, your jaw drops, and you gaze down at him in indignance, “What? But Rafe, you’re not my–”
“Your daddy? I mean, you do want me to take care of you, don’t you?” He smiles when you don’t immediately respond, “That’s why you called me today. Because you felt unsafe, like how you’ve felt your whole life ever since you lost your real daddy, isn’t that right?”
He half expects you to shove him off you, scream, lose it, slap him, kick him out of your house for going there, for trying to take advantage of your obvious daddy issues. But it’s like you’re in a trance, and he keeps going, “You want someone to take control, to reassure you that everything’s gonna be okay. That’s why you’ve let me take care of you this whole week, right? Because you need me, you like how I make you feel.”
He softly strokes your bare thighs, noticing that you’re shaking under his touch. And you look like you’re about to cry, in your most vulnerable state in front of him. And yet he keeps going, his voice like a calm lull, almost hypnotic with how you look at him with your huge, unblinking eyes.
“I can be your new daddy, princess. You’re gonna let me, aren’t you?”
Rafe doesn’t wait for your response. Instead, he grips your thighs harder, spreading them as far as they’ll go. He spits on your mound, watching his saliva drip down to your pussy. You’re watching too, with stricken, hooded eyes. Like you’re frozen in time and space, and he’s the only constant.
Leaning forward, he envelopes your clit between his lips, giving it a harsh suck. Your entire body convulses, and you moan the loudest he’s ever heard you. Thunder claps at the same time, but you’re louder than it, and your hands grab on to his hair, and you press your cunt into his face, practically smothering him but he fucking loves it.
“Tell daddy to lick your cunt,” he orders, his voice deeper and lower than it’s ever been, and a slight threat in his tone, “say it, or else I’ll stop everything.”
“L-Lick it, please,” you beg so prettily, keeping your voice barely above a whisper. Rafe sits back, looking at you expectantly till you make the prettiest little noise of impatience. You shoot him a pleading look of desperation, but he doesn’t let up. You cry out, gripping his hair harder before ducking your head in shame, “P-Please, okay? Please lick my cunt, daddy.”
Rafe could’ve orgasmed right there at the sound of your sweet, delicate voice pleading with him, finally addressing him as daddy. Instead, he sucks hard on your sensitive, engorged clit, and you scream bloody murder. He snickers against your soaking folds, grabbing your thrashing hips, stilling them slightly but allowing you to rock them against his face till it’s shining with your wetness.
“Messy little girl,” he mutters, “excited, aren’t you? Never had this virgin pussy eaten, huh?” he grows sloppy, messy with his licks. Tonguing your sensitive nub till you’re a writhing mess above him, incoherent little gasps and moans tumbling out of your mouth as you continue to hump against his face because you’re a goddamned virgin who doesn’t know how to act because you’re feeling so good.
Rafe’s practically making out with your pussy, and he’s never enjoyed going down on a girl as much as he is right now. It’s how responsive you are, it’s how this is all so new to you so you don’t even know nor care to hold anything back. You’re rubbing your pussy on his face like all you can think of is how good he’s making you feel. And he fucks you with his tongue, unable to quite believe how sweet you taste. Like an angel, his angel. All his.
“It’s…It’s too much, Rafe!” you cry out, and yet you’re rolling your hips with abandon, riding his tongue while he sucks and licks you out like he’s starved.
“You can take it,” his voice is muffled, and you try to wrap your thighs around his head except his grip on them is too strong. It’ll leave bruises in the shape of his fingers all over your soft skin, but he likes that. He wants to bruise you, mark you, make you his in every way possible. So next time when you wore a slutty little sundress, every goddamned man on this island would know you’re taken. Fuck, he’d get his name tattooed on your goddamned pussy, and–
You cum, squeaking so prettily he wants to bottle up the sound and keep it safe in his memories forever. Your first orgasm, and all it took was a couple of minutes of him eating your cunt. And your muscles squeeze around his tongue, and you cry and moan like you don’t even know what’s happening. Your grab at his hair, pulling so hard because you’ve probably never felt like this before.
And Rafe doesn’t stop, his tongue swirling circles while you hump and grind against his mouth, riding out your orgasm, moaning his name over and over again. Outside, the weather gets worse, and at one point he notes the whole room shakes as if the goddamned roof’s about to blow off. You don’t give a fuck though, and he doesn’t either.
“Oh, Rafe, oh, oh oh, it’s too much!”
Now, you’re trying to push him off you, but selfishly he keeps tongue-fucking you. His thumb rubs your engorged, sensitive clit. He knows it’s too much for you, but he’s too fucking turned on to stop.
“C’mon, baby. Don’t be like that. Lemme give you another one.”
“No, I-I can’t, I, oh fuck!”
He slaps your clit, and a squelching sound fills the room. You gasp, and he just snickers, having entirely too much fun with you. And again, you twitch your hips, inadvertently pushing your cunt into his face again. You’re out of breath and sensitive from your first orgasm, and yet your greedy little pussy wants to give him another one.
“You like it when your daddy slaps your cunt?”
You’re such a shy little thing, gaping at him as if he’s said the most insidious thing on earth. And yet, your cunt squeezes around his tongue, and he you up as you continue to leak into his mouth. He looks up at you, “Tell me you like it.”
“I, uh, I like it, uh… daddy, oh gosh!”
It takes just one more spank and you come undone, cumming all over his face and he licks you throughout. Long, languid stripes of his tongue flat against your wet folds, then he switches to fucking you with it, and your fuckhole’s so goddamned tight, his tongue barely even fits a little bit, but it doesn’t stop him. He’s got one hand slipped down his pants, jacking off because this is the hottest thing in the world he’s ever witnessed. Innocent little baby crying after orgasming from getting her pussy spanked by her daddy.
He feels like a lion closing in on the fucking lamb, forgetting himself for a second as he gets up. Aggressively pushing you down till you’re lying flat on the bed, surrounded by your stupid stuffed animals. In a second, he’s on top of you, breathing hard like a man possessed. God fuck, all he had to do was shove it inside you, hold you down and tell you to take it. Maybe press his hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming too loud. Not that it mattered. Nobody could save you from him tonight.
But you blink up at him so prettily, so unaware of his intentions, your eyelashes wet with tears. Your lips bitten and pouty, face shiny with sweat. Your hands grab his arms again, squeezing like you’ve grown used to doing.
“R-Rafe, that was… wow.” You say breathlessly, so blissfully innocent, not realising at all that he’s moments away from holding you down and fucking you, that he’s planning how he’ll do it in his head this very moment. “I never… I never thought it could feel that good.”
Rafe finds himself feeling that again, that weird feeling that kept bubbling up inside his chest from time to time whenever he was with you. He still doesn’t have a name for it; he can’t even properly describe it. But looking down at you now, watching you stare up at him with those shining eyes of yours. All he can do is push a piece of your hair out of your face, and smile slowly down at you.
“What do you even know about sex, baby?” He breathes, his face so close to yours.
“Oh, well, uh… Not that much. I mean obviously I know how it works. I just… I didn’t know you could call someone da– that.”
He smirks, tapping your cheek condescendingly, “You mean daddy?”
You look embarrassed, “Yeah.”
“I need you to keep calling me that, okay?” Rafe says gently, “It’s completely normal and I told you I’d take care of you from now on. You want that, don’t you?”
Again, he nudges at your lips with his thumb, making you suck it. Which you do, and the feeling goes straight to his dick. He wants to fuck you while you suck his thumb, gently rock his hips into you, your tight pussy squeezing his huge cock while you whimper around his thumb, sucking it while you cried and just took it, took whatever he gave you and then said thank you, daddy like the good little girl you were.
He starts kissing you again, unable to help it. And your response is so enthusiastic, he feels like he might explode. You’re getting more confident with all the kissing stuff, and Rafe likes that it’s all because of him.
“You ready for the next lesson, baby?” He asks between kisses, his hands everywhere all over your naked body. Squeezing your breasts, playing with your ass. Loving that you’re naked beneath him and so willingly too.
You swallow harshly, “I don’t think I’m ready–Oh!”
He takes your hand, pressing it inside his slacks. Right on his hard, throbbing dick. And fuck, it feels so small, so weak against his pulsating cock. He bites his lip hard to keep from thrusting into your hand.
“Take it out.”
“N-No!”
He exhales loudly through his nose, holding your hand tight against him when you try to snatch it away. “Baby, what did I tell you about doing what I say?”
“I-I know but… but I’m scared.”
“It’s okay to be scared,” he says, “but you need to do this, alright? Didn’t I make you feel good just now?”
“Well, yes, but–”
“So just trust me. I’ll make you feel good again, okay baby?” He kisses you lightly once, twice, three times till you smile, “You’ve been such a good girl tonight. So brave for me....”
You hiccup, looking up at him with those goddamned saucer-like eyes again, “R-Really?”
He strokes your cheek, innately aware of your hand relaxing against his cock, “Yes. Such a brave, good girl. You forgot all about the storm outside, didn’t you?”
As if on cue, you whimper and cuddle into him more. He smiles like a goddamned wolf, feeling evil yet desperate at the same time, “Call me daddy again, princess.”
You don’t even fucking hesitate, “d-daddy, I–”
“Take daddy’s cock out, baby. It’ll distract you, I promise.”
You do exactly what he says, and he helps you. He can’t help but hiss when you free his dick from the confines of his slacks, and you gasp too, dropping it immediately when you see it.
“Shit, gimme your hand,” he murmurs, and he doesn’t wait this time. Snatching your hand in his, he spits down into your palm before pressing it on his dick. “Stroke it.”
You pull back, “I don’t know how, I don’t–”
“Do it or I’ll leave right the fuck now.”
In your helpless daze, you whimper before placing your hand back on his dick. And it’s so red, about ready to explode the moment you touch him. He exhales slowly, and it feels so fucking good, and he covers your hand with his, guiding it, making you stroke him up and down.
“That’s so good, baby. You’re so good.”
“I am?”
“Shit, yeah, just keep doing that. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He notes how you grow more confident, rubbing his dick and jacking him off like a good little girl. His hand leaves yours, instead cupping your face as he pulls you in for another kiss. He can’t help kissing you, you taste so fucking sweet and it’s insane because he’s never particularly enjoyed kissing anyone this much before. But he loves kissing you, leading you through it, guiding you. Loves how responsive you are, loves how you listen to him even when you feel all scared and hesitant. As if you know that at the end of the day, he was the one with all the power, the one in charge. The only one who knew how to take care of you.
“You ever seen a cock before this, princess?” He asks crudely between kisses.
Your eyes widen, “N-No, Rafe– I mean, uh, daddy.”
“No? Good girl. That’s so fuckin’ hot.” He bites your pouty bottom lip, and you gasp, squeezing his dick in your hand and it makes him moan straight into your fucking mouth. What a naughty girl.
“It’s, uh, it’s so big,” you say quietly, so quietly that Rafe almost doesn’t catch it. But he does, and he smiles, pulling back slightly.
“Yeah?”
Shyly, you duck your head, “Yeah, daddy.”
God, you were so fucking irresistible. He couldn’t take it anymore. He takes your hand, which was still steadily pumping his dick, and holds it tightly. Holds both your hands by your sides as he nudges your legs apart again, and watches as you take a deep breath, as if you know what’s coming.
Lowly, he whistles at how wet you are, your juices having leaked down to stain your pink sheets again. Rafe’s never had a virgin before but he knows how eager they are, how easily turned on they get. He can imagine how slippery wet and snug your snatch would be around his dick. Now, he swipes a finger down your slit, gathering your wetness while you squirm under him.
“Aww, look how excited your pussy is, princess.” He snickers, bringing his finger up to your lips, smearing them with your wetness, getting it all over your face too till it shines and you’re all messy. “Tell me, what’s got her so wet?”
‘I don’t know.”
SMACK.
Rafe finds he quite enjoys slapping your cunt, especially when it’s so wet and throbbing. You cry out, quivering and shaking underneath him. He flashes you a look, “Answer the question.”
“You,” you breathe, blinking up at him, “You, daddy.”
“Yeah? I get your pussy wet?” He’s working himself up, his dick nudging against your folds and he doesn’t know why he doesn’t just shove it in there. “Tell me why.”
You moan pleadingly, “R-Rafe, please!”
“When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer it properly,” he says, enjoying himself a bit too much. It was payback for all the times you’d teased him without even realising it this past week. Flaunting your sexy little body, blinking up at him with those fuck me eyes, as if you were just begging for it in your own little innocent way.
You swallow harshly, and despite everything he can see you thinking carefully, as if you want to give him a real proper answer to impress him. Cute.
“I, uh, I like how big you are,” you stutter slowly, “you-you’re a lot bigger than me.”
He grins wolfishly, pushing his hair out of his face before pressing a greedy kiss to your lips, which you respond to fervently. But he pulls away all too quickly, looking down at you as if he expects you to continue.
“I like how strong you are,” you’re looking anywhere but at his face, he guesses because you’re too shy. He sponges kisses down your jaw, your neck, down to your chest. Kisses all over your tits, presses them together and licks them, bites at your nipples while you moan between your words. “You make me feel safe, daddy.”
Rafe pauses, and it’s there again. That stupid fucking feeling that he doesn’t understand, nor does he care to understand it right now. Nobody’s ever felt safe with him before. Everyone’s always been afraid of him or hated him or screwed him over because they didn’t trust him. No one’s ever looked at him how you’re looking at him and it makes him feel things he’s never felt before.
But he shoves those feelings straight back down, clears his throat before pressing his finger down between your folds. You shiver and moan, hips bucking up before he pins them in place. He tries pushing his pointer finger inside you, but is met with resistance despite how soaking wet you are. Fuck.
“Tightest pussy I ever had,” he mutters, “but she’ll take daddy’s dick, won’t she?”
It’s more of a statement than a question, and he ignores your soft cries as he forces his finger up your cunt. Till it’s finally knuckle-deep, and he bets you can feel the cool silver of his ring against your warmth. And your pussy’s so fucking snug, gripping his finger like a vice, and even he has to wonder how he’d possibly fit his big dick inside you.
“So full,” you breathe, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. But he shuts you up soon enough when he starts fingering you. One singular finger, because that’s all that fits. But he moves it in and out, curving upwards till you moan, thrusting your hips in rhythm like you can’t even help it.
“Gonna add another one, okay baby?”
‘W-Won’t fit, daddy.”
“Shh, yes it will. Daddy’s gonna make it fit.”
Rafe makes it fit. He has to hold you down while you cry like a baby, but soon he’s got his index and middle finger shoved inside you, finger-fucking your tight, virgin cunt while his hard dick slaps against his stomach, and he’s so fucking turned on. More than he’s ever been in his whole life.
“How’s that feel, baby?” He murmurs into your ear, nibbling at it, licking inside it and making you jump. And fuck, you’re so jumpy, and he has to keep you pinned down while he fingers you, and a sick part of him wonders if he’s drawn blood already.
“H-Hurts,” you whimper like the goddamned little cry-baby you are. “R-Rafe please slow down.”
“Come on, don’t tell me to slow down,” he continues pumping his thick fingers up your slippery wetness, feeling like you’re swallowing them up whole every time, “Not when you’re drippin’ all over your sheets like a little–”
“But it hurts!”
“That’s okay, it’s supposed to hurt,” he explains slowly, like you’re dumb, “it’s because you’ve never done this before, so that’s why I gotta stretch you out like this first, okay?”
A lone tear meanders down your cheek, “I-I don’t think it’s gonna fit, Rafe.”
“I made ‘em fit, didn’t I?”
“Nooo, you’re, uh, I mean your…” You sniffle helplessly, a wild look in your eye that looks half scared, half confused as he bets your body’s starting to betray you.
Rafe feels a smile creep up on his face, “You already thinkin’ about my cock, sweetheart? How it’s gonna feel when it’s up your virgin cunt?”
You shake your head vehemently, but you’re a little angel slut because your hips are bucking up to meet his fingers. “Rafe, no. Your f-fingers, they’re already too much, I don’t think I can take…”
“Didn’t I just tell you I’d make it fit?”
You grip his arm tightly, pleadingly “Y-You’re too big, I-I don’t think I can handle anymore…Oh fuck!”
He knows he’s hit that spot inside you because your whole back arches, and you let out the hottest moan he’s ever fucking heard in his life. Complete abandon, head thrown back, digging your nails so hard into his arm that he’s sure you’ve broken through his skin.
“That’s right, baby girl. Just fuckin’ take it,” he mutters, increasing his pace, wondering if he can fit a third finger in. “Fuck, you’re so good, baby. Taking your daddy’s fingers like a champ. God, look at your little virgin cunt, swallowing ‘em up like a greedy little slut. Didn’t think you’d turn out to be so fuckin’ slutty, baby.”
You clench around him, moaning his name and he can’t believe how much his dirty talk is having an effect on you. His thumb rubs at your clit while he continues to finger fuck you, wanting to draw another orgasm out of you because you’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum, and he wants you to make a mess all over his fingers before he finally takes you with his cock.
“Too much, too much, oh, oh, oh,” you’re half delirious, humping against his fingers, letting him fuck you with them, and he knows you must feel so full. And it feels like heaven for him, being inside you (even if it is just with his fingers). You feel so soft, so wet, so warm. Your muscles tensing and relaxing around him as he builds you up.
“Take it,” Rafe repeats, “bet it’s never felt this good huh? You ever finger yourself, baby girl? Touch yourself late at night when you think everyone else’s asleep?”
You gasp at his words, but he feels you clench around his digits.
“Mmm, not such a good little girl after all, huh? Fingering yourself when you think your mommy’s asleep,” he grins wickedly at the horrified look on your face, increasing pace, “but it’s never enough, is it? Your fingers aren’t as big as mine, so you could never make yourself cum.” He laughs, “this whole time, all you needed was a man like me to take care of you. Say it, say you need me. Say it.”
“N-Need you!” You cry out, delicious tears streaking your face, “I need you, daddy. I-I…Oh fuck, please! Please, I don’t… I just… I–“
You squirt all over his hand. And it’s insane; Rafe’s never seen anything like it before. He gazes in wonder, caught off-guard for once. You completely come undone, crying and panting his name, rocking your hips against his hand as you ride out your third orgasm of the night. And who knew it would take just a little bit of dirty talk to get you to squirt? God, you were so fucking hot, so full of surprises. So perfect for him, it was unbelievable.
“Good girl,” he strokes your head like you’re his little pet, taking his wet fingers and pressing them into your mouth, and you’re so hot when you automatically suck on them. “Such a good girl, baby. That was so fuckin’ sexy.”
All you do is clutch at him and cry, so spent and overstimulated from your orgasm. Rafe licks his lips, feeling both protective yet predatory at the same time. You’re at your weakest, most vulnerable state. Outside, thunder and lightning strike over and over again as if they were paid to do so, and the room lights up and goes dark, it shakes and shudders, and the winds howl like a pack of possessed wolves. And yet you look so pretty in the dim glow of the candlelight.
It's the perfect night for you to get ruined. His perfect little baby. Pristine and innocent and at his mercy.
Rafe’s cock is so hard it hurts, throbbing as he grabs it by the base, pumps it as he hovers over you. On his knees while you lie beneath him, looking so deliciously scared. He presses his whole length against your stomach, and watches your eyes almost bulge out of your head. He knows he’s big, but compared to your tiny frame, he’s massive. And he gets off on that, gets off on how much bigger he is than you. He smears his precum against your stomach, smirking as he watches you swallow and try to be brave.
“Listen to me,” he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, “You like my cock, baby? You like looking at it, huh?”
The way you lick your lips gives it away, and he laughs cruelly, tapping your cheek like you’re his little pet. “Say it, then. Say you like it. Beg me to put it inside you. C’mon, baby, look at your pussy, she’s crying for it. Beg me.”
He knows you’re at war with yourself, and you shake your head tearfully, opening your mouth to speak. But a clap of thunder sounds just then, so loud it makes the whole room shake. You cry out so pitifully, it makes his heart throb a little. You grab at him, and he falls down on top of you, kissing you, kissing your salty sweet lips and your tears. Kissing you all over while your desperate hands tangle into his hair.
That’s when he nudges the tip of his dick against your folds. And it already feels like fucking heaven, your wet warmth practically begging him to shove it inside you. He presses his tip on your puffy, sensitive clit and you jump, your eyes widening and then you push at his chest.
“R-Rafe, please, I don’t think–”
“Shh, c’mon, baby. Let daddy fuck you,” Rafe urges softly against your lips, “gonna make you feel so good again, mhm?”
“Nooo…”
He tries to ignore your soft cries, the way your palms press weakly against his chest.
“Shit, just relax,” he coaxes, knowing he could just hold you down and force it in, and yet…
He kisses you, tasting salt on your lips. You try to kiss him back, but he can feel you gulping for breath. He can feel your heart hammering against your chest. He can feel your limbs pushing at his body, but he’s just so much fucking bigger than you that it doesn’t even make a difference, and yet…
“Rafe, I… please…”
“Baby…”
His dick feels like it’s going to explode, and he runs it up and down your soaking slit, and you moan. And your face looks turned on beyond belief, and yet scared at the same time. Nervous, frightened, vulnerable. It’s a heady mix, and he doesn’t know what to do, and–
“Please, Rafe. I’m not ready, I-I can’t, Rafe. Please…”
“Fuck.”
Something comes over him, and Rafe feels it again. That bubbling, intense feeling inside his chest. Like a rush of an emotion he doesn’t know if he’ll ever understand. All he knows is he can’t, he fucking can’t. You’re so sweet, so kind, pure like a flower and he just can’t bring himself to pluck it. Tear it apart. Ruin it like how he ruined everything else he touched.
He rolls over, lying beside you while you quiver next to him. Both breathing hard. And outside, the wind howls and howls almost like it’s mocking him. Laughing at him for being a goddamned pussy. And there’s another clap of thunder, and he hears you crying softly.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Rafe finds himself gathering you in his arms, holding you against his chest, “Hey, look, don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”
“I-I thought I could but…” you hiccup between your tears, and your eyes look like there are a thousand stars shining wetly inside them, and he knows he’s never seen anything so beautiful. “I’m sorry, I thought I could do it, I thought–”
“It’s okay,” he repeats, cupping your face and making you look at him, his thumbs swiping away your tears, “Don’t cry, okay? Shit, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
“Y-You’re not mad?”
He strokes up and down your back, soothing you while he wonders whether he is. But the only thing he feels right now is this strange, innate need to protect you. To reassure you. Hold your quivering body close till you stopped shaking. It’s insane, because he doesn’t feel like himself, because he’s never felt this before. It’s alien. Completely, utterly fucking alien.
“No,” he answers quietly, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “No, I’m not mad.”
“You pr-promise?”
“I promise.”
He feels like a different person as he tucks his dick back into his slacks. Like someone else, like someone he doesn’t recognise. But it feels so natural, holding you so close that your heartbeat feels like his. And the storm outside feels like a million miles away. Like it’s just you and him on a different planet and nothing else exists, nothing else means anything except you.
You fall asleep in his arms, spent after everything. And Rafe doesn’t even feel frustrated in that moment, because all he can focus on is how peaceful you look. Your tears dried on your cheeks, your chest rising and falling rhythmically. You trusted him with everything. And it made him feel like someone important.
The wind laughs and laughs all night.
*
The morning is calm, tranquil. Almost like the storm never even was. And Rafe wakes up well rested, with you cuddled on his chest, his arm around you and his thumb in your mouth. The room dappled in sunlight, the candles all blown out or melted away.
Slowly, he detangles from you, making sure not to wake you up. You look so peaceful, so innocent. So soft and pretty, in your little shack of a house on the Cut. He frowns as he looks around. In the morning light, your room looks even more pitiful. It’s clean, and you’ve made it pretty with notes and posters and fairy lights. But he can see the paint peeling off the walls, the fact it’s smaller than his closet back home.
Rafe can’t believe he’s woken up on this side of the island.
He has the sudden urge to leave. To run. Hastily, he types out a text to you.
Rafe: Hey. I thought I’d leave in case your mom came home and saw us. Didn’t want to wake you. Talk to you later.
He has to get home. Gather his thoughts. Recalibrate. Think about what the fuck came over him last night, when he’d had you right where he fucking wanted you. And then he’d pussied out of it. Rafe Cameron never pussied out of anything.
What the fuck did that mean?
His gaze shifts to you again, so pretty and sound asleep. Naked because you’d so willingly shed your clothes for him, spread your legs for him. And he could have had you. Hell, he could have you right now. Force himself into you while you were still asleep, and you’d wake up crying and sobbing, all confused and sleepy while he held you down and ordered you to just take it.
That’s what he should’ve done last night. So then what the fuck had stopped him?
Now, he lightly runs his fingers over your bare thigh, humming lightly at how smooth you feel. So soft, like an angel. A powerful, almost all-consuming feeling overtakes him. A wave of possessiveness coursing through him like a tidal wave of dark poison. You were his. All his. He could do what he pleased with you. Your body was his. You’d all but served it to him on a silver platter last night, in your pathetic little room with the candles.
Rafe feels like he’s having an out of body experience. He gets his phone out, ignoring any small, decent part of him that was sending warning signals to his brain. You were his. He had every right to do this.
Silently, he takes the pictures. And a sick part of him gets off on it, gets off on the fact you’re asleep and none the wiser to what’s happening. But this was the least you could do, you’d left him hanging last night. After he’d been so patient, so understanding. Fuck that. Why had he been like that? Like he was weak?
“You make me feel safe, daddy.”
Your words from last night ring in his ears, bouncing around in his brain till it gets too much, till they start to echo and get louder and louder. Till he feels the urge to punch the shit out of your bedroom wall. It was all too much. He had to get out of here.
He tucks his phone into his pocket, pushes the cotton covers up till your chin, and then leaves without looking back.
*
“There he is! The loverboy himself!”
His friends gather around him the next morning like he’s the second coming of Christ himself.
“How was she, Rafe?” one of them slaps him on the back, “That is, if you fucked her.”
“Yeah.” Kelce stands in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at Rafe expectantly. They all are. “Did you fuck her?”
Rafe scoffs, “Is that even a question.”
He’d waited all day yesterday for you to respond to his text. Like a pussy ass little bitch, he’d waited for you to say something. Growing angrier and more paranoid by the second when you didn’t. Staring at the pictures he’d taken of you like a man possessed, his thumb hovering over the delete button a handful of times before he’d thrown his phone angrily across the room. Hating how you were making him wait. Hating how his heart had leapt up to his fucking throat when you finally had replied: I’m so sorry for being such a scaredy cat yesterday. Thank you for coming over.
He'd discovered something then. He was obsessed with you. And he hated it.
“Pictures or it didn’t happen,” Kelce grins, cutting straight to the chase. Next to him, Rafe sees Topper’s eyes light with interest, as well as the others too. Fucking desperate losers, trying to catch a glimpse of something that belonged to him. Because they’d never get to see you like that, ever. No one else would. He’d make sure of that.
“It did happen.” Rafe says calmly, “Like I said it would.”
“Okay well, that’s great brother but we’re gonna need proof.” One of the clowns pipes up.
“You don’t need shit,” He shoots back.
“You didn’t take pictures?” Topper asks.
Rafe runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I did.”
“Then show us. That was the deal.”
He wants to beat the shit out of all of them for daring to ask to see intimate pictures of you. As if you were anything like the other whores he’d fucked in the past, the type of stupid girls him and his friends used every week. You were different, and you were his, and they had no fucking business looking at what was his.
“Look. I don’t give a shit if you don’t believe me.” He mutters, completely over the dumb ass bet and over his friends too. They’d forget about it by tomorrow, ready to become his willing followers once more. They always did.
“C’mon man, you can’t bring our hopes up like that. Either you never fucked her or,” Kelce’s eyes glint when it registers, “Or you’ve gone soft for her. You’ve–”
Rafe grabs him roughly by the collar, a sudden anger coursing through him like he’s been electrocuted. “Listen, you fucking moron. Don’t ever insinuate I’ve gone soft for a goddamned Pogue.”
He spits that last word out like it’s venom, and yet he tried to ignore how hollow it feels. When he realises people are staring, he quietly lets go, smoothing Kelce’s shirt while his friends stare at him fearfully in that way he’s grown used to people looking at him.
“I fucked her,” Rafe says plainly, his tone switching from aggressive to calm in a split second, almost like he’s slipped on a mask, “I fucked her just like I’ve fucked every other Pogue bitch who’s thrown herself at me before her. And it wasn’t anything special. She acts all innocent, but it was easy to get her to spread her legs for me just like I told you it would be.”
He hears a thud, and then a little gasp behind him. So soft, it barely registers. Except it does, and he turns around.
And immediately locks eyes with you.
And then it feels like it’s just him and you. And nobody else is there. And there’s no sound, like both of you have stopped breathing. You stand there, frozen, stricken. Your books on the ground in front of you. Only a few steps behind him, well within earshot. And he sees something break in your expression, porcelain features twisting in hurt, shock, dismay, disbelief.
“Oh shit,” Topper mutters from somewhere behind him. A few of his friends snicker, but Rafe can’t hear them. No, he’s frozen, staring at you as if he can’t quite believe it. And he sees the tears welling in your eyes.
A little broken sob falls from your lips, and then you turn and run. And Rafe wants to chase after you but it’s like he’s frozen in time and space. Watching you run off while he just stands there.
Stands and watches as you run away from him, your hands reaching up blindly to wipe at your face. And that feeling returns tenfold. That feeling that Rafe can’t quite put his finger on, that feeling which he wants to push back down because it suffocates him, and he doesn’t understand it. The feeling consumes him from the inside out, till he feels like he can’t breathe.
And he just stands there and watches until you’re gone.
𝘼/𝙉: OOF. Okay, I finally posted it! Please let me know what your thoughts! Literally any reaction, predictions, favourite parts etc. All of it, ANY of it would be so appreciated! Also please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors. Here's some questions in case you want to answer them (you don't have to!! you can comment/reblog whatever you want, i just always post questions at the end of my fics)
Does Rafe genuinely care for reader?
Should reader forgive Rafe?
Favourite scene/part?
Anyways, that's it. Now I'll anxiously wait to see what you guys think. PLEASE PLEASE consider reblogging this fic if you plan on liking it and want me to continue it. Thanks so much for all your support when I posted the sneak peek. I hope this lived up to your expectations! <3
Words: 8k+
Summary: After the party, everything goes down.
Warnings: Female!Reader. Insults. Slut shaming. Difficult relationships with parents, specifically fathers. Mention of drinking, sex, drugs, and violence. MDNI.
A/N.: Ignore the fact that I've been gone for almost a year. Imagine it only took me like... 2 months :) Probably needs more proofreading, so, pls be nice <3
Tutor Masterlist
Time felt weird. It felt like it was going too fast and too slow at times. When you walked out of that building, the cold outside made everything too real. All the words. The expression on your parents’ faces. All of it. They kept replaying yet again in your memory, making you more nauseous by the second. And, with each second that went by, your parents never seemed to finally walk out of the building.
You tried to prepare yourself for when they did, what to say, and how to act so that nothing could become much worse for you by not knowing what to say. You thought of saying a whole speech of how you regretted not telling them, and how you will explain everything. You thought of maybe even calling Rafe out of the room, but that felt even worse. You thought of not saying anything at all, but you could already see how that would just leave them to assume more and more of what went down.
When the doors of the building behind you opened, you almost lost your footing, watching as your parents walked out. They looked composed at first, like nothing had happened. But the closer they got to you, right beside the car, you noticed your father’s tense posture and your mother’s eyes, reddened and moist with tears ready to burst out.
You opened your mouth to talk, your chin shook when her broken eyes met yours, and, with much disappointment on your side, no words that you practiced came out, just a small sob. Your father’s eyes moved to stare at you once the sound came out, but he didn’t say anything just yet.
You tried to reach for your mother when she was close enough, but she didn’t respond, simply sniffled and moved her hand to clean the corner of her painted eyes, careful to not smudge a thing. As your father reached for the car keys, you swallowed some of the tears and tried to speak, letting out a short and ridiculous “I can explain”, but it met deaf ears. No one responded.
Once the car was unlocked, your mother opened the door and walked right in, but your father stood there, watching her as she did it, deep in thought. You tried to open your mouth to talk to him instead, but when his eyes met yours again, all he said was, “Get in the car.”
You did, and the trip home was horrible. You held your tears in, feeling your chin shake and your face wet from tears you didn’t care to wipe away. Your mother cried in small sniffles, ones which at times got the response from your father as an understanding look or a hand over hers. No words were said, and it all hurt more by the second.
Once inside your house, you felt like it all broke loose. Your mother put down her bag at the entrance, and her eyes met her feet as she let out a sob for the first time. Your father does not move, standing mere inches from the door that was just closed behind him.
“I can try to explain.” You blurted out again, heart beating out of your chest, and panic beginning to rise higher and higher.
“Is there anything to explain?” Your father asks, almost spitting his words in your direction.
“Yes.” You nod, trying to sound convincing, but your following words, with the nerves, just shoot out of your mouth, “I didn’t mean to hide it like this- It was not really planned- It all just started as a… I’m not sure- But there is nothing wrong with Rafe. I love him, and he treats me well. I promise. He is nothing like people say he is-”
“Do you hear yourself?” He asks you, his expression morphing into a worried yet angry look.
“Yes, Dad, please. You have to believe me!” You step closer to him, wanting to hold his attention and make him believe your words, “Rafe is not as bad as you think he is. Please don’t be mad.”
He shakes his head and pulls his hand away before you can even reach him. Your heart breaks, and he walks away from the door, creating a larger distance between the two of you as he needs space to think. Your eyes stupidly fill up with tears again as you grow more and more helpless, and it all seems to get worse just because of it.
“Stop crying,” Your mother says, looking at you, finally. “You have to stop crying every time something does not go your way. You are not a child.”
“But mom…” You try to talk, but your broken heart wants to express itself further, consuming your body and making you want to cry or else run out of air to hold it in further. “You have to believe me. There is nothing wrong with this. We are just dating... He is like any other boyfriend.”
Your father chuckles at your words, and your wet eyes meet his again. Your body is starting to feel weird. Your skin feels clammy, your body feels hot, but your teeth keep wanting to chatter. At the same time, your mind is going too fast with ideas of what to say to the point of not being able to get anything out to defend yourself or Rafe. Your previous attempts had been bad enough. You feel ridiculous, but there isn't much you can do.
He leans forward as if to hear you better once you speak, “Like any other boyfriend? Do you hear yourself?” He asks you, chuckling but finding no humor behind his questions. “The Rafe that I keep hearing gets into multiple fights a week and got into the hospital for alcohol poisoning, is like any other boyfriend?”
You frown amid your tears, “That isn't freaking true!” You exclaim, “This is what I mean when I say that Rafe isn’t like what other people say he is. He does not get into fights like that, and he doesn’t drink- I never saw him drunk, even!”
Your mother turns to face you, “When could you have seen him drunk? At home?”
“I-”
“Y/N, you better shut up.” Your father interrupts you, “You are only digging yourself a bigger hole.”
“How long has it been going on?” Your mother asks, going against your father’s wish to have you in silence.
“Months.” You admit, “Not sure how many.”
“More than two?” You nod, “More than five?” You nod too, and her eyes swell up in tears again before she looks away, all while your father seems to be driving himself to madness as he looks at you. “Have you been to parties too? Is that it? Without your friends?”
“Kristy and I haven’t been talk-”
“And why is that?!” Your father asks loudly and angrily, making you flinch.
“Because she found out about me and Rafe.” You admit, forcefully wiping away your tears to grasp onto any dignity you had left.
“What do you mean ‘found out’?”
“I didn’t tell her either when we started seeing each other,” Your father chuckles again humorlessly, “And she saw me with him once.”
“Let me guess, he has been in our home too?” Your mother asks, trying to see if there is anything the man hasn’t done yet without her knowledge.
“Yes.”
She shakes her head, disappointment filling her every pore, and she does not try to hide it from you. Your heart keeps jumping in your chest, but you try to calm it down as it is doing you absolutely no favors.
A silence follows, and you notice that you have finally run out of tears, even when your mother has not, and her make-up has become too smudged for any of it to be salvaged. Your father stands feet beside you, seething with the idea of anything ever happening between you and Rafe.
You smooth your hands down on your dress, cleaning the sweat from your palms, and try to think back on what you had been wanting to tell them before you lost control of everything around you. “I am not proud of hiding it from anyone. I did it to try to calm down any unwanted reactions. I tried to not make this a surprise. I-” You pause to clear your throat when you notice you are nearing tears yet again, “I meant it to be me who would say it to you and to Kristy and the rest of the girls. I wanted to tell you everything when I would be done with school. Not be ambushed by it twice in a month… I’m sorry for lying and for hiding all of this. I never meant to hurt anyone with it.”
“Hurt anyone with it?” Your mother asks dumbfounded, “Has it ever occurred to you that we, or Kristy, are against this relationship, not because of our feelings, but because we are scared for you?”
We… or Kristy…
“You’ve talked to Kristy…” You realize in a low tone. They ignore it as they mustn’t have heard it.
“Rafe, rumors or not, is dangerous. He has always been.” Your mother throws her hand in the air to emphasize her despair, “I am angry that you did not tell me, but I am angrier with the fact that you chose him, of all people, to date. He can hurt you. He can… He can do so much wrong. Drugs, alcohol, unprotected relations, all of it.” She breathes, “He is bad news, Y/N. He has always been. You cannot do this to yourself.”
You turn to your father and see that he must agree with all of your mother’s words, because he doesn’t seem to have anything else to add. Angry or not, he seems to prefer to be silent.
“No matter what you think, I am not breaking up with Rafe.” You tell them both. “I am not doing it. I have said this to Kristy, as I’m sure both of you have heard from her. And, since our conversations weren’t exactly civil, I am sure you will not even want to hear when I say that I know Rafe. I know him and I have known him for quite some time. I have watched him before. I have met his family, years ago. I have met his friends. I have seen him do everything possible under the sun, and he has not once hurt me.”
There is a short silence until “What about Aiden?” Your father asks, bringing his hand up to rub his jaw in frustration.
“What about him?” You ask, knowing exactly what he means.
“Rafe sent him to the hospital. He beat him to a pulp, Y/N.” He explains, still angry.
“I know he did.”
“You were there?” Your mother asks. Her mouth hangs open as she isn't able to contain her shock.
“I was.”
Your father can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous you sound, “And you’re fine with it.” He affirms it, moving his shoulder as if it is so natural to say it aloud.
“No, I was never fine with it. I have always hated violence. Rafe knows how much I’m against it, too.” You tell him, trying to sound sure of your words. “But though I think he took it too far... Aiden did deserve it.”
“Deserve it?!” Your mother repeats in a squeal.
“Who even are you?” Your father dramatically asks, “Because my daughter would never say this, ever-” You interrupt him.
“I made Rafe apologize for it. I’ve contacted Aiden, and he himself told me that Rafe did indeed say ‘sorry’ and paid for the medical bills.” You tell them, “I didn’t make him do it like he was a child, or because he needed someone to tell him how wrong it was. He knew that he went too far, and that is why he apologized as soon as I called him out on it.”
They don’t say anything.
“That was the only time I saw Rafe being violent. He didn’t initiate it, and, still, he never did it again.” You conclude.
“So, Aiden started it?” Your father asks. “The Aiden that I’ve known for so many years and has sat at our table, that Aiden- That Aiden picked a fight with Rafe?” He almost laughs at how ludicrous it all sounded.
“No. Aiden started it with me, and Rafe ended it.” You clarify. “Aiden was drunk, and that is why I don’t think he deserved what happened to the full extent. He came up to me, figured out that I didn’t want anything to do with him, insulted me, and Rafe punched him.”
“Right…” Your father nods, finding you to be full of shit. “Rafe, the gentleman.”
You look away, noticing how he’s beginning to make fun of you. You look towards your mother instead, who has been silently listening to you and never tried to test your patience as much as him.
“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe it, Y/N, I am sorry.” She tells you. Her natural, saddened pout reappears as her eyes fill up with tears again, forcing you to look down at the ground. “I’m scared for you, really. I am.”
“Mom-” You try to stop her.
“He is dangerous, Y/N. People will talk as soon as you go public with him. Everyone will see it and think the same thing.” She says, almost running out of breath as she fights her tears.
You don’t seem to have any more words to say.
She tells you outright, “He is a drug addict. My friends have kids just like you who have been to these parties with Rafe. He is always coked up, they say.” She tries to wipe away her tears. “He drinks a lot. He is rude. He is mean. And he might sound dreamy, but that is only because you are a teenager. He sounds dangerous, and that is why you are attracted to him.” She holds your shoulders now, “But you need to get away from him before it is too late-”
“Mom, stop it!”
“He is a bad influence… He will get you into drugs, too. You cannot do this to yourself. To us!” Her eyes are wide, and she looks insane. As if she has already gone mad with all that has happened. “You need to break up-”
“Shut up!” You say loudly, and she shuts her mouth. She lifts her hands from your shoulders and brings them over her mouth, creating a distance between the two of you. “Jesus Christ, Mom! Please stop this craziness about how he will hurt me. You don’t even know the guy!”
“Watch how you talk to your mother!” Your father defends her, “She is worried about you!”
“Yeah, because she prefers to think back on the rumors that she’s heard rather than listen to her daughter. She prefers to listen to Kristy rather than her own daughter, who is healthy and not into drugs, and tells her that everything is fine. And, still, everyone is going ABSOLUTELY INSANE!” You almost scream out the last words. The frustration inside of you had to get out in some way.
“You need to leave him.” Your father says, ignoring your words.
“And why should I do that?” You ask him, scoffing.
“Because your mother is right, Y/N. He is dangerous. Even you, yourself, admitted it in your version of the story. Rafe preferred to start a fight instead of talking it out with Aiden! Imagine when he has an argument with you!”
“He punched Aiden because Aiden called me whore!”
Before you even get to say anything else, your father responds, “Well, given how you are acting, maybe Aiden was right.”
The entrance hall of your home goes silent, and even your mother stops her sobs amid all the yelling. No one dares to speak, but your father does not seem to regret his words. He doesn’t try to correct himself or, as he usually does, admit he only spoke from a space of anger and frustration. You stay silent because you wait for him to say it, but he never does. Your father thinks you are a whore, all because of your relationship with Rafe.
Your mother doesn’t say anything, but her eyes find her husband’s. She doesn’t agree with him, but she doesn’t try to defend you. You are acting too differently for her to recognize you in your actions, but all these words were going too far.
“Maybe.” You tell your father, looking him in the eyes.
“What?”
“What?” You repeat, “Maybe Aiden was right. That’s what you said, why are you so surprised?” You shrug, “But since you agree with him that you have a whore of a daughter, and maybe a druggie as a future son-in-law, it's not that bad, right?” You spit your words, letting them escape your mouth, finally with no filter. “Just like I have an idiotic father and mother who prefer to believe strangers over their own daughter.”
Your father is fuming at your words. Only now that your words finally have a bite, and you aren't struggling to put a coherent sentence amid your tears. He has a problem with all that you’ve been saying, even if all you’re doing is repeating what they’ve said to you.
“Did you know that Aiden was the one who introduced me to alcohol, along with Kristy?” You tell them both, and then fixate on your mother, “Aiden also was the one who took my virginity and introduced me to unprotected relations…” You quote her. “The same Aiden that you both have known for years and has sat at your table.” You smile sarcastically, “That Aiden.”
And then your cheek stung, but you expected it.
“Get out of my house.” Your father says. His hand is hot from the impact.
You look into your mother’s wet eyes as your smile falls, and your own eyes plead to cry from the pain and humiliation of its form. You sniffle before you say, “Okay.”
(…)
The walking out wasn’t as smooth as you’d wanted it to be. You were still able to hear your mother gasp as you reached for the handle of the door, as if walking out of the house had been your idea all along. She didn’t stop you, physically or verbally. She let you go, but you still heard her project her worries to your father as soon as you closed the door behind you.
You hesitate on who to call. Rafe felt obvious, but he was also at the party. Rose already knew enough. You didn’t want to pull him away from the family hangout and ruin it any further. So, you thought about it a little more. You had Topper or Kelce, but they probably already got too drunk. As soon as Patty sent you a text asking where you’d gone, you didn’t hesitate to call instead of typing.
“Hey, where are you?” she asks, loudly, as if in a loud room. “I went outside for a bit and, when I came back to check on you, you were gone.”
“I’m at my house.” You tell her, holding in any of the tears.
“Oh, okay.” She says, finding the location weird, given how early the night still is.
“But I actually have to get out of here,” You try to explain, taking a deep breath to make sure you don’t make this any harder for yourself, “Could you come pick me up?”
“Sure,” She says, but her tone is thick with utter confusion. “Is everything alright?”
“I got kicked out.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah…” You sniffle and kick a little bit of gravel into the path before you. “So, could you come pick me up?”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course!” She says, loudly, almost as if snapping out of the shock, “I’m going to my car, now.”
“Thank you.”
“No need,” She says, “See you soon.”
You answer her before turning off the call, but your phone starts vibrating with another one right after. You expected it to be Patty, having found Rafe, or forgetting your address, but no. It’s actually Kristy. You have no idea why you thought she would stay away now.
You smooth down your dress, thanking the summer night for not having you shaking in the cold as you waited for your friend. Your breathing is shaky, but tears seem to have dried out completely by now. A miracle. It must be from dehydration.
The phone vibrates yet again from another call, but you deny it again when noticing that it is Kristy calling you yet again. What more could she have to say to you?
Hope rises in your chest every time a car drives by, expecting it to be Patty, who will finally drive you away from this house, where you can finally stop thinking about what went wrong.
You had to start thinking about your life. Your parents have always given you everything. They were going to pay for college and support you in whatever future you’d decide to have. And now, you’ll have nothing. No help. No support. You’re on your own. Could you even afford to go to college anymore?
A car slows down to a stop in front of your home, and you get ready to talk to Patty. But that isn’t Patty’s car.
Well, shit.
“Y/N, I am so sorry. For everything!” Her voice shouts out into the night, and you close your fists in pure irritation to see her again. “I never meant for it to go this far!” Kristy shouts as she gets out of the car.
You don’t answer her. You simply fish out your phone from your purse again and text a ‘Hurry up’ to Patty to keep yourself busy. Kristy doesn’t seem to have cared for your lack of attention, as she continues to walk in your direction and outstretches her hand, as if asking you to hold it. You can't even hold back your disgust once you notice it.
“I am so sorry,” Kristy says, now standing in front of you. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize it. I should’ve listened to you.”
Her hand tries to envelop yours, but you pull away quickly. “Don’t touch me.”
“Please, you have to hear me out. I was just so worried about you. I even tried to talk it out with your parents to calm them down, too.” She breathes out as if she ran to say this to you. “But they just wanted to leave and talk to you about it.”
You still don’t say anything.
“Let’s go inside and talk to them together.” She reaches for your hand again, and you take a step back. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? We’ve been best friends for so many years, we can’t just throw that away, right?”
“You already did.” You answer her, surprising her. “You did it as soon as we talked in your car, and only fortified it with whatever happened tonight.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is to me.” You tell her, “I haven’t been your friend since then. So, yes. We did throw that away.”
Your name escapes her lips in a pleading tone, and you almost slap her across the face when noticing tears forming in her eyes. She had to be joking. What reasons could she have to cry? In your face, specifically?
Another car comes to a stop in front of your home, and you sigh when you notice another right behind. Patty told Rafe. Great.
You start walking towards them, but Kristy seems not to really get what you told her, because she stays close behind. “We can fix this, still, Y/N.” Kristy says, “Let’s go inside, please. Let’s talk to your parents and sort this out.”
You look over your shoulder and see her turn around. You watch her as she starts knocking on your front door. All while Rafe, Patty, and Topper all start getting out of the cars, you begin to want to bury yourself in a literal hole. With this, the front door also opens, and you let out the biggest sigh. This could not have gotten worse.
You decide to keep on walking in the direction of the cars, and Kristy’s voice starts again, but now with your parents. It's all the same: apologies and trying to amend anything that she’s done. But the reality is that your parents are not focused on her or her words, but really on your back as you walk away, and the cars that are parked in front of their home.
“What the hell happened?” Rafe asks you as soon as you stand close enough, and his voice, though low, gets everyone’s attention.
“Got kicked out.” You say, surprising yourself with a shrug.
Your parents stand by the door with Kristy right in front of them. She tries to reach out to them, trying to hold onto your mother’s hand and rain down more apologies, just like you had listened to. Your mother’s hand is unmoving, even when Kristy’s hand goes around it. She tries to speak to her, but your mother’s eyes are focused on you only. She cannot hear what you’re saying to Rafe, who is still wearing his suit, and as he lays his hand on your shoulder. His own eyes haven’t lifted to face anyone else. They are stuck on you as you speak.
Patty and Topper also walk closer, almost covering you away from your parents’ gaze. Your father notices how Rafe’s expression twists multiple times throughout the sentences that you tell him. A mixture of anger and confusion all around. A girl he doesn’t recognize, Patty, wraps her arm around you and continues to listen to you in silence. All while Topper Thornton has brought his hands to his head, listening to you, frustrated, as he scrubs his hair.
“We can all fix this.” Kristy’s voice cuts through everyone’s trances, those who listen to you and those who are fixated on you from a distance. “This can all be fixed.”
Rafe lifts his gaze for the first time with her words and looks directly at her. He has no reaction, but Kristy still cannot find herself to meet his eye. Not after all of this. She holds onto your mother’s hand and squeezes it before facing her, with her smudged makeup and teary eyes.
Rafe looks away and down at you. Your parents notice that you seem to be calmer than when you were inside the house. At least, you didn’t seem to be violently crying as you once had done amidst the argument inside. Rafe says something to you that your mother cannot understand, and you only nod in response. Patty smooths her hand down your back in comfort, and Topper shares a look with her in complete shock. He never knew how bad this was.
Kristy looks between the two groups in despair, not knowing what to say or do. She lets go of your mother’s hand, making her realize she had been holding it this entire time, and decides to start walking towards you. Topper notices her first, and Patty right after. Patty looks Kristy dead in the eye, and it makes her stop walking.
“We should go,” Patty says to you before turning her head to face you.
“Where do I even go?” You ask her, and Kristy looks at you, noticing you are holding Rafe’s hand as you speak.
“Any of our houses.” Patty shrugs, and you look up at Rafe, who is looking down at you in silence. “Why don’t you stay with Rafe today, and I’ll get the spare room in my house ready? My parents are on a trip for a month.” Her hand rubs between your shoulders, and you nod.
“Is that okay?” You ask Rafe, as if he could ever say no to you.
He gives you a look that would’ve made you laugh any other day, but not this one. Rafe then pulls you over in the direction of the car, and Patty’s hand falls from your back, letting you walk away. Kristy, for the last time, tries to follow you before you leave for the Camerons’ home, but Patty steps in her way, stopping her.
“You’ve done enough today,” Patty tells her, as she listens to the car door closing on the passenger’s side. Rafe walks around the car to the driver’s seat, and Kristy follows him with her eyes.
“I have to tell her that I’m sorry.”
“It won’t do anything,” Patty tells her, almost letting out a groan when noticing that your parents are walking closer too.
“Let us speak to her.” Your mother says, right as Rafe’s car starts.
Patty opens her mouth to answer her, but she is walking in the direction of your, blacked out, window before she can even say anything. You look over at your mom, watching as she moves her hands to ask you to roll down the window. You don’t do it.
“Honey, please let me talk to you.” Your mother still says to the window, but you look away and say something to Rafe, which makes him drive away without you sharing a word.
Your mother sobs out loud as the car pulls off the driveway, and Patty looks over at Topper, who is in absolute shock at all that has happened.
What a hell of a night.
(…)
Waking up seems to have become easier after a few days in your new bed. It, obviously, doesn’t compare to your old one, but you have a sense that your body is finally getting accustomed to it. The lack of curtains, on the other hand, is what you think you'll never accept into this new home. It is absolutely ridiculous to be brought up from your slumber by what feels like a spotlight right in your face.
You stretch before bringing yourself to sit on the bed. Your hair already feels like a mess, and you haven’t even touched it. You let out a breath and bring your body up on your feet, forcing yourself into the bathroom.
You decide to take a shower and start getting yourself ready for the day, even without breakfast, which has been hard to stomach lately. You run over to the bedroom to get something quick and comfortable to put on, and decide on a dress, given that today will be hot.
When finally out of the bathroom and bedroom, you can hear voices from the TV in the kitchen. You talk in the direction of the voices and, in the room, you get Patty's attention right away. She had just been distracted by her phone while mixing something in a pan when you stepped into her field of view.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty!” Patty excitingly tells you, “How did you sleep?”
“Good,” You answer, leaving it short and sweet.
“Do you still love my lack of curtains?”
“Absolutely.” You give her the fakest smile ever, making her laugh out loud.
You walk over to the island, and Patty hands you a plate full of food. You thank her, and the room soon goes back to just the noise coming from the TV - some sort of podcast video Patty tends to listen to while she cooks. You don’t mind the noise. Nor do you mind Patty’s silence as she cooks. It only leaves you to think to yourself, or, better, not think at all about what truly wants to be brought forward into your mind and made into a real issue.
Everything just went down 4 days ago. It’s supposed to still be fresh and still make you want to cry your eyes out. You’re supposed to be okay with being upset about what happened. But you really can’t bring yourself to cry anymore.
“Where’s Rafe?” You ask Patty, making her look away from the pan.
“Gym, I think.” She shrugs, “Topper picked him up just an hour or two ago.”
You nod and go back to eating. Your phone sits right in front of you. You’ve made yourself block Kristy and many of the other girls by now, as your phone was becoming unusable by the number of notifications you’ve been getting. And now, your mother’s contact flashes on the screen, and you hesitate before you grab to answer it.
“Hello?” You say, as Patty turns around to notice what you’re doing. She stands still.
“Y/N.” Your mother says, “I need you to come grab your things as soon as possible. I need your room vacant by this afternoon.”
If you didn’t know your mother, this would’ve hurt more than a stake through the heart, but you know what she’s doing. She’s trying to rub at the wound, so you’ll go back home and tell her how right she was all along.
“Okay.” You tell her.
You could hear a pin drop with her following silence. You let yourself continue it for longer, getting yourself a mouthful of food while you’re at it. Once you swallow it, you speak again.
“I’ll make Rafe drive me there, we’ll go grab everything as soon as he’s back from the gym.”
There are a few seconds of silence.
“And when will that be?” she asks, suddenly. “I want to be out of the house when that happens.”
Dramatic.
“In-” You’re ready to say a random number, but the doorbell is heard from the front of Patty’s house, “In an hour, max.”
Patty walks out of the room to open the door for Rafe, Topper, and probably Kelce, and you take another bite from your food. Patty really does know how to cook.
“Alright.” Your mother says, dryly.
“Bye.” You say before ending the call.
The voices of the three, as you had assumed right, men fill the house all of a sudden, and you look over your shoulder to find Rafe walking into the kitchen, definitely looking for you. You smile at him and jump out of your seat. He leans down to get a kiss as soon as he’s close enough, and you continue smiling up at him.
“I need a favor.” You tell him.
(…)
You have been packing with Patty for the past hour, and you still feel like things are far from being all packed. Rafe came to be of no help at all. He helped in the first few minutes, finding much pleasure in looking through your things as you put them into bags and boxes, but now, as he says, he is bored. You’ve thrown 3 pillows at his face in this entire hour. With no regrets.
He keeps lying on your naked mattress, as you had decided to take the sheets off your bed while you were packing. His phone has been asking for battery for the past minutes, and he is seemingly close to closing his eyes and going to sleep. You don’t have it in you to force him back up. At least he will be quiet.
“Do you want to take these too?” Patty asks, pointing at the things on top of your desk.
“Yes, please.” You say, seated on the ground as you forced closed a bag of clothes.
Your wardrobe is empty, except for some boxes that you have no interest in taking with you, as well as the bedside tables. Your book stands are just halfway done, and all you can think about is how you are probably taking too long, and your parents might appear sooner or later.
“At what time did your parents say they would be back?” Patty asks, and you walk to your phone.
Your phone is on your bed, just beside Rafe, who opens his eyes as soon as you step closer. You try not to trip on your way to him and, as you reach for your phone, Rafe tries to caress you. You simply smack him away.
“In thirty minutes.” The text from your mother only said that you had less than two hours to pack everything. And then leave the key on the kitchen table.
Patty sighs and starts to throw your things with less care into the bags. You can’t judge her. You two have no more time, and it’s been long enough to start losing the patience you once had when you first got here. You look down at Rafe, who is burning a hole through your skull, and he pretends to close his eyes as if he’s going to sleep. You grab onto the pillow that hadn’t fallen onto the bed on your previous attack and hit him square in the face. Rafe gets startled, and you embarrassingly squeal as you try to get away from him before he grabs you.
Rafe refuses to get out of bed, so you get back to work in peace. It takes Patty a few more minutes to clear out the desk and the rest of the book stand, and then she announces that she needs to go to the bathroom really quickly. Right as the door closes, you grab the plastic hangar closest to you and throw it at Rafe.
“Why are you throwing things at me?” Rafe, with his male audacity, asks.
“Because you aren’t moving a single muscle, that’s why.” You tell him, sincerely. “Help me out. We’re almost done, anyway.”
He huffs out a breath with his dramatics and gets back up. You hand him the hangars, and he starts putting them down on the box as you collect them from the ground.
Right as you’re holding the box together so that Rafe can tape it closed, a sound interrupts your peace. It isn’t Patty getting out of the bathroom, or a notification on your phone. Nope, it was a door. More specifically, the front door.
Rafe looks directly at you when the door closes, and you take a breath. Everything will be fine, you tell yourself. Patty gets out of the bathroom with an expression that could only show that she, too, heard the front door. So, all of you get back to work without saying anything.
Whoever is in the house among you may not hear your voices as you work, but you three aren’t silent with packing, nor do you intend to. It’s better if they know you’re still here.
“Want me to take anything to the car, yet?” Rafe asks, hands on his hips.
“Yes, please.” You tell him, pointing at the boxes closest to the door. “Can you go with him, Patty?”
Patty nods at you, letting out a breath as if relieved from being free from the packing job, and they grab as many boxes as they can. Patty takes two boxes piled on top of each other before getting out of the room, and you help Rafe pile the second one as he already has a bag over his shoulder. A pink one too. He looks cute.
“Be right back.” He says before leaving the room.
You turn back to face the boxes and decide to finish up the tape first. At least, whenever they get back up here, they’ll be able to take more boxes and free up some space in the room. You grab Rafe’s phone to check the time, and you supposedly have 20 more minutes. Whoever just got home, got here early.
You kick the least fragile box of clothes closer to the door for easier grabbing and go back to the hangers, taping the box shut and kicking it away. You look around the room and start taking down your posters and whatever else is left on the walls.
Due to your complete concentration, you fail to realize that Rafe and Patty have come back to grab more boxes, and that, after they’re gone, someone now stands by your door. They wait for you to notice them, but with the back and forth of taking things down and shoving them into bags, you don’t even realize you’re being watched.
At some point, you zip up the small backpack and notice someone at the door. Naively, you assume it’s Rafe as he’s usually the fastest to come back for boxes, and Patty had just left, so you speak to him.
“Babe, could you just-” But it’s not Rafe. When you turn your head to hand Rafe the bag you want him to take down to the car, you find your mother instead. “Oh, hi.”
She doesn’t talk, at first. You watch as she takes in the room, absent of nearly all your belongings and having lost all the personality it once had.
“We’re almost done packing.” You clear up, “We’ll be done in like… 5-ish minutes.”
She still doesn’t say anything, but she steps into the room. Your eyes follow her as she moves, and then she simply takes a seat on your bed. Your naked bed. She notices the lack of clothing and runs her hands over it.
“I put the sheets in the hamper,” You try to get her to talk again. “Thought it would be easier for you to clean it after.”
Out of ideas on how to break your mother’s silence, you decide to continue your packing, letting her decide when she’d like to talk. You finish up quickly, and soon Rafe shows up at the door again. He opens his mouth to talk, but immediately shuts it when he notices your mom sitting on your bed. His widened eyes find you, making you the one to break the silence.
“Can you take these,” You point to the last boxes, “and these?” You hold two small bags in your hands.
Rafe doesn’t verbally answer. He just grabs everything and gives you a look before disappearing again. It was a look of caution, almost as if you are near some predator that is ready to bite you. You ignore it and take in the finally empty room.
You don’t let your eyes sting with tears. Not even when you think of how you slept most of your nights in this room. This was where you had the best sleepovers and late nights with friends. Gosh, even with Rafe. And now, it lies naked and cold. Something that makes you understand your mother’s sudden silence a bit too well.
You knew her bite over the phone was a fallacy. Her mask following arguments is always the same. Cold. Stoic. But they always crumble, and she’s always the first to apologize. Though you don’t think today will be it.
“I don’t agree with what your father did to you,” the slap, she means.
You don’t say anything.
“Nor what he called you.”
She lifts her eyes from the empty bed, finally, to you.
“But I want you to understand that we had worries before having any anger towards you.” She admits, with her voice low. “We don’t know Rafe. Nor do I think we wish to… Nor do we know his family all that well… But you need to understand that we were terrified when we first heard it.”
“I understand.”
Her silence makes you want to elaborate.
“I don’t agree with what happened. Nor do I believe I will forgive either of you.” You notice a flash of anger behind her eyes for a second, but it disappears quickly. “But I understand why you’d be scared. That’s why I wanted to be the one to tell you, and the one to ease you into it.” You let silence consume the room yet again before finishing with, “You don’t know Rafe. It’s fair that you’d be scared.”
“So, he isn’t what we’ve heard?” She challenges, though in a calm voice, almost sounding curious.
You hesitate to answer her, but then you remember. Your situation cannot get any worse, can it?
“He does drink, and he does party a lot.” You nod at her, and she’s focused on your every word. “I’ve seen him do drugs, too.” You admit, with little hesitation. “He has never coerced me into doing or drinking anything. And I don’t think I’ve ever really seen him actually drunk or high. Just…” You try to find a word, “dazed, I guess.”
The silence that follows is deafening, so you continue.
“I drink too, at parties.” You admit, “When I drink, he never drinks. And he always makes sure to drive me home, his or mine, and make sure I drink water before I go to sleep.” Your words surprise her, and she doesn't even hide it, so you continue. “He has fought a single person in front of me. Aiden, to be exact. And we got into a fight. And Rafe never fought again. Just like he promised.”
Your mother looks away to hide her surprise, which she is able to do by returning to her stoic and silent expression.
“He’s caring, and playful, and nice.” You keep going, “When he likes you.” You clarify with a short smile, which is evident in your tone. “And we didn’t start dating in the most romantic way possible. Nor did we go on a bunch of dates… we just… got together and enjoyed each other’s company too much to just… stop.”
You move towards the door, initiating your exit, but her eyes find you again.
“He loves me, Mom. He really does. He makes me feel safe and taken care of.” You admit with complete sincerity, “Since that fight after Aiden, he has never, ever, made me doubt him.”
She listens to you, and you can tell that she doesn’t believe you fully. But, in the very least, you’re happy that she is listening. This had been the speech that you had intended to tell her, calmly, if things had gone your way. You would’ve eased Rafe into her life, not forced him all in one go, like Kristy has done. Maybe you'd mention how he is when you tutor Wheezie, and how he helps you out so much with drives from his place to yours. Then, slowly, you would mention how he isn’t all that bad. Not anymore, at least. How nice he is to his sisters. How much of a clown he is with his friends. How gentle he is with you.
Rafe is someone you’ve grown out of a crush and have begun to love with your whole heart. You’d want your parents to love him, too.
“Where are you staying?” Your mother asks.
“Patricia’s house.” You explain, then prefer to actually say the location of the house on the island, and provide more specifics, “She has a vacant room. So, I’ll probably stay there until college.”
It will be less than three months of summer. You’ll be off the island before you even get used to your new house.
Your mother sighs while looking away, and you watch her in silence.
“I don’t feel ready to talk about the other night, yet.” Her eyes meet yours again, “As your mother, I know that I should. But a lot happened, and it doesn’t feel right yet to talk to you about it.”
“I agree.” You nod.
“Just…” She hesitates, “Know that your dad is regretful. He really is.” Your face must have shown your surprise, because she adds again, “He should’ve never done what he did. I made sure he knew that, too.”
You aren’t sure what to say, but you know this conversation is coming to a close.
“And… while we don’t get this over with,” she waves her hand between yourselves to symbolize your argument, “Just promise me…” Your eyes sting at her sudden tone of voice. It's soft. “Promise me that you’ll be safe.”
“I promise.” You say right away. “I promise, whole heartedly.”
“Good.” She nods before her eyes hit the floor again.
Silence comes back to haunt both of you, so you decide that it is time to leave. You don’t reach for her, even when your heart begs you to. You have always been close to your mom, and knowing that she has come to her senses… It makes you hopeful again.
“I’ll be going, then.” You announce, and she nods without looking at you.
And, with that, you go and, with a quick reach into your pocket, leave the house keys with her.
A/n.: Feel free to send me asks about literally anything: my plans regarding the following chapters (spoiler free, of course), where the hell i've been, etc. I've missed y'all <33333
author's note: this was so weird to write bc i've never really written smut before and i literally had no clue what to say LMAOO?? hope it's somewhat entertaining 🤍
warnings: smut, MDNI, fratsweetheart!reader x fratboy!rafe, masturbation (male), cursing, mention of female body parts
The thing about being the frat sweetheart was that you were technically off limits to anyone in the house.
It was an unspoken rule. Some ancient, passed-down frat lore that nobody could fully explain but everyone somehow respected. You were their crown jewel—untouchable, unbothered, worshipped like a goddess who brought home-baked, sprinkle-adorned cupcakes to chapter meetings and kept the pledges in line with a single, perfectly arched brow. Dating you? That was practically sacrilegious. The boys would have the offending brother's face on a wanted posted by the end of the day.
But... Rafe Cameron never really abided by the law. State, federal or frat.
He'd find his eyes lingering, unintentionally, accidentally, but unwaveringly on you as you passed by him, walking around the house in your fluffy slippers like you ran the place (you did.) His hands would find every chance they could to touch you: cupping your hips when he scooted past you, offering to help you carry the cases of beer to the cooler just to feel your fingers brush against each other.
And when you smiled at him--really smiled--like he wasn’t just another frat boy with a god complex and a backwards hat?
Yeah. He knew he was doomed.
He still had the decency to feel a hint of shame, though, as he laid in bed one evening. The other brothers had gone to go help you clean up after a party gone wrong; he had feigned a fever, whining dramatically as he laid in bed. You’d come upstairs like the actual angel you were, pressed a perfectly manicured hand to his forehead (still warm from the hot towel he'd pressed against it earlier.) You cooed something sweet, called him “poor baby,” and kissed his cheek before the crash of glass downstairs tore you away screaming Mason, I swear if that's you...
He was whining for a completely different reason now.
Your Instagram was pulled up on his cracked phone, the photos from your latest post plastered across his screen. A shot of you bending over as you set up beer-pong, skirt riding up unabashedly, the scrap (if even that) of your panties peeking through. Another one of your tits pushed up in a tiny triangle bikini as you held a bottle of liquor in the air.
He was a goner.
Rafe could barely think straight with his eyes fixated on his glowing screen, hand fisting his embarrassingly hard erection. He'd only been viewing your page for perhaps a minute and he was already rock solid, the tip raw and red and leaking.
He had to gnaw on his lower lip to fight back his pathetic groans as his hand moved faster, slick with some random lotion he'd dug out of his suitcase. Squeezing the length of him, swiping his thumb over his slit, his hips were bucking into his hand in no time.
"Mm, fuck, baby," he didn't dare utter your name, even in the midst of his desperation. God forbid one of the guys walks in and hears that. "So good...just like what."
He thumbed back and forth between the photos with his other hand, unable to decide what he wanted to look at more. Each time he imagined your honeyed voice from just minutes before, the press of your lips against his cheek, he swore his hips jolted off the bed, hand moving frantically over himself.
His mind conjured up the wildest fantasies. Of you finally letting him have his way with you one night, of you finally being his. He didn't even care about the presidency at that point, he just wanted to feel you moaning and squirming beneath him, looking up pleadingly with those pretty eyes. He'd treat you better than any of those guys he saw you parading around campus with.
Finally, he swiped to the last photo, one he hadn't even noticed. It was a photo of you, not scandalously exposed like the other ones. Just you, smiling widely, eyes glittering as you looped your arms around one of your girlfriends. A genuine moment, a moment where you looked purely like you.
And the worst part? That was the one that sent him over the edge.
Abruptly, he found himself coming, hips jolting, toes curling, eyes squeezing shut, hand slowing down as he rode himself through his orgasm. His seed covered the sheets and his stomach in thick ropes, a few specks landing on his screen. And, to really top it off, he accidentally called out your name.
Practically screamed it.
He was so screwed.
Rafe heard the rushed patter of your feet going up the stairs and forced himself to blink out of the haze. That was probably the most intense orgasm he's ever had. All from jerking off like a horny teenage boy to your Instagram photos. God, he was really pathetic?
But before he had time to linger on his post-nut clarity, he heard the door creaking open and bolted to pull the soiled covers over him. You came rushing in, all wide-eyed and concerned as you sat on the side of his bed, likely inches away from a puddle of cum. He grimaced.
"Rafe! Are you okay?" You hurried to ask, tone all soft and distressed and caring.
"Oh, uhhh..." he had to force himself not to stammer as he dramatically slumped against his pillow, reassuming his sickly-Victorian-child act. "Yeah, yeah just... fell asleep, had some weird ass fever dream, you know?"
"Damn, this cold's really beating your ass," you observed, raking your fingers through his damp, sweat-slick hair. "You're sweating like crazy. Maybe you should ditch the blankets?-"
He swore his heart dropped and he insistently tugged the comforter back on as you moved to lift it. "Nah, nah, I'm good, I promise. Don't worry about me. Go back to fixing the house, yeah? Those dumbasses won't know what to do without you."
You giggled lightly, seemingly deterred, much to his relief. "You're right, I should get back. Call me if you need me, alright?"
He nodded quickly and then, you bent down once more, kissing his cheek.
As you left, he glanced towards his lap and saw his previously limp length already hardening and filling with blood.
Fuck.
why are so many of rafe cameron fics set with readers that are just like.. bimbos.. and he’s the ‘big strong guy’ taking care of them?? are we living in the 50’s?? yes make your readers hyper feminine if you so please, but come on ladies.. at least have him view her as an equal 😔
i’m not trying to yuck anyone’s yum here, i do scroll when i see stuff im not interested in; but it’s usually not even in a sexual context or addressed? it’s just like.. their overall dynamic? i swear it’s almost specific to rafe cameron fics as well; he just treats the reader like a baby that loves pink…it’s so strange ?? i could potentially be deeping this, it just feels icky in the societal and political climate we’re in 😒 ok bye ho
cw: fluff, suggestive and sexual connotations, established relationship, flirting
synopsis: taking your bf to the aquarium for this week's date
"I still don't understand why you're so obsessed with some fish," Rafe huffs, walking hand in hand with you up to the front desk to pay for tickets. "You can watch 'em on the National Geographic for free."
Rafe always walks a little slower when you're holding hands like this, swinging your hand a little too just because he knows it makes you giggle. His thumb keeps sliding over the back of your hand absentmindedly. You look up at him through long lashes, raising a brow. "You promised me, Rafey," You remind, amused at his scrunched nose. "This week was my pick. Golf and dinner was starting to get old, you know."
He scoffs, pretending to be offended, and nudges your hip with his just enough for you to stumble. He tightens his grip on your hand so you don't fall.
"I thought you'd take me to watch a movie or something, you lil' nerd." He gestures towards the pretty shark made of glass that's behind the counter. "Not on a field trip."
You pinch his cheek and huff at how grumpy he’s being, and he bites your finger in retaliation. "Rafe!" You cry out, glaring at the little mark. "You bit me, you animal,"
He laughs and messes with your hair. "Yeah, cause you touched my flawless face with your grubby little hands." But he's already reaching for your hand again, long fingers curling around yours like it's his by default. His palm is warm and a little rough.
He tugs out his wallet from his back pocket before you can chew him out for calling you grubby, and he pays for two tickets, the most expensive ones that allow you to feed the rays, pet the sharks, all that extra stuff you'd never splurge on for yourself. His card is already out, black and shiny, like always. "Gotta give my girl the full experience, he grins, taking your tickets and shoving them in his pocket.
After walking through the gate and taking one look at the first exhibit, a school of fish swimming around a pretty coral reef, he's already pretending to drag his feet to piss you off, knowing damn well you can't drag along a two hundred pound man. You shoot him a look, and he just smirks, pleased with himself. He loves getting a rise out of you.
"You're so mean," You frown at him, shoving at his chest. "I should've brought someone who actually likes sea creatures."
Rafe stops walking immediately, and you almost bump into him from the sudden halt, but he drags you even closer, not letting go of your hand. His chin is tilted down to look at you like you’ve just said something insane.
"Try it," he says, voice low. "Bring some other guy to your little nerd date. I dare you."
Your eyes widen, cheeks warm instantly. You weren’t expecting him to take the bait, much less lean in the way he is now, mouth brushing the shell of your ear when he talks. You feel it more than you hear it.
"I'll drown him in the stingray tank," he adds, quieter this time. "Make it look like an accident."
"You're deranged." You huff at him, scowling when he grabs onto your hips from behind and rests against you, laying his chin on your head while you watch the fish.
You're trying really hard not to smile, standing in his arms with your head against his thick bicep, but with the weight of his chin on your head and the way he's got one arm wrapped around your neck and the other around your waist, you can't help but feel comforted. He's warm and smells so good, and you feel him breathing against your back, slow and steady like he's not in any rush to move.
For a second, it's actually nice. The tank glows soft blue in front of you, fish darting through the coral. The room is quiet, a peaceful hum. And Rafe, despite all the whining, just melts into you, his lips brushing your temple like he forgot he's supposed to be mocking the fish.
"You know..." he breaks the silence. "You'd look so sexy in one of the little tour guide uniforms." he mumbles in your ear, and you roll your eyes at how he ruined the moment because all he can think about is fucking you. "Get you in one of those khaki shorts a size too small so it really clings to your ass... and-"
"Rafe," you groan, pulling away from him and smacking his arm. "You ruin everything." He laughs loudly not even trying to hide how pleased with himself he is as you stomp off toward the stingray exhibit, muttering about how you should've come alone.
"Wait!" He calls after you, laughing at you. His longer strides shorten the distance between you guys quickly. "You didn't even let me finish! I was gonna say I'd volunteer to be your intern and we'd have fun in the break room!"
"You're so gross!" you throw over your shoulder, and he dodges a family with a stroller to run up beside you, pretending not to care that he’s still snickering behind you.
Rafe comes up to your side, bumping his shoulder gently into yours." C'mon. Let me redeem myself."
You keep your arms crossed. "You were being sweet for two seconds, and then you had to be a horny pervert."
"Well sorry that you turn me on, baby."
You shake your head, biting your cheek to keep from smiling, and stare hard at the stingrays. One glides up to the edge of the pool and flaps its fins a little, like it’s waving hello. You visibly soften, letting out a tiny gasp.
Rafe watches your face instead of the water, not saying anything else when you finally reach into the water with both hands, glowing in the blue light. He just leans his elbows on the edge beside you, chin propped in his palm, and watches you like you're the exhibit.
You reach back to poke his tummy just to piss him off, but he just grins, nosing at your hair now. "Tell me what it’s called again," he says suddenly. "The pancake."
"It’s called a cownose ray, babe. It's gentle."
He laughs and shakes his head, more focused on sniffing your hair than learning anything about sea creatures. "Gentle and ugly." He snickers, cracking himself up.
You groan at his idiocy, spinning back to face him just to see him grinning at you and nuzzling your cheek. "I already know everything I need to know."
You scoff, knowing you could prove him wrong in seconds. "Oh yeah? What's a group of jellyfish called, then?"
He squints at you, then at the tank, thinking hard before his eyes light up like he came up with the answer. "A gang, duh."
You actually snort, biting your lip to hold back laughter. "It's a smack of jellyfish."
"But they're not smacking anything!" he argues instantly. "I like mine better."
He moves closer, crowding into your space. Your fingers trail through the water again, chasing after the gliding ray with a dreamy look in your eye that Rafe is basically smitten with.
He doesn't even bother pretending to care about the stingrays. He's too busy staring at your soft expression. The light of the tank flickers against your skin, coating you in a shimmery glow, and Rafe is just gone. You're still trying to get the cownose ray to come closer when he starts trailing lazy kisses up your jawline. "I came here to learn something," you say insistently. His kisses are distracting you.
"Learn how wet things get when you touch 'em?" he offers, clearly trying to ruin every moment you try to have. You gasp and elbow him so hard in the ribs that he actually coughs, laughing through the pain like he's proud of himself.
You scoff at him and go back to watching the water. The moment your fingers glide back into the tank, the stingrays come swarming like you're magnetic. One bumps into your hand like it wants attention. Another flaps right up to the surface, letting you run your fingers along its soft back.
Rafe huffs and looks over your shoulder. "Why are they all coming to you?" he mutters, brows furrowed.
You glance over your shoulder and look smug. "Because I'm gentle. And sweet." You wiggle your fingers and the ray you were petting comes back for more. "They can tell I'm friendly," you say, voice soft like you're trying not to scare them off. "Animals are smart."
Rafe doesn't answer right away. He's just watching, eyes flitting between the stingrays and the way your face lights up every time one of them moves. His gaze is kind of stuck on you now, his mouth slightly parted, one hand reaching out like he might touch the water too but thinking better of it. "You look like a Disney princess," he says under his breath, sounding almost annoyed about it. "This some kinda magic trick?"
You giggle and glance back at him, smiling at his pink cheeks. "Jealous they like me more than you?"
He doesn't answer. Just stares, long and hard, then lifts one hand like he's going to try. His fingers hover above the water slowly. "They'll let you," you promise. "Just move slow. Be nice."
Rafe rolls his eyes. "I am nice, princess."
"You're kinda mean."
"Lies."
You smile, pleased, and scoot over a little to give him room. "Come on. Try it. They don't bite."
He finally dips his fingers in, bracing himself like the water's going to rise up and fight him. One of the rays floats nearby but ignores him completely. Another swerves toward your side again, flapping excitedly. Rafe watches it trail past his hand without even a nudge. "Wow," he mutters. "They really do hate me."
"They love me though," you brag, petting another as it bumps into your palm. "They know I'm their friend."
"They know you're a weirdo who coos at them like they're babies" he says, but it's fond. You hear it. His voice has gone soft again. He looks at your lips intently. You look up and catch him mid stare, head tilted, mouth tugging up at the corners. You shift over just enough that your knee brushes his thigh, and point toward one of the stingrays lingering near the edge. "That one," you whisper. "Try with him. He's curious."
Rafe scoffs under his breath, trying to mask the way he's actually invested now, even as he glares suspiciously at the water. He tries to reach out again, and the ray drifts closer, gliding by his hand slowly and gently.
Rafe's whole body jolts like he wasn't expecting contact, and he stares down at the soft creature.
"There you go, Rafey." you huff, trying not to laugh. "You did it."
He doesn't respond at first, just blinks down at the water like he can't believe he passed whatever test the creatures were giving. Then he looks at you with his eyes wide and his mouth tugged into a smirk that's entirely too pleased. "You saw that, right?"
"I was here," you laugh, bumping your shoulder into his. "You've been chosen."
"I'm a stingray whisperer now," he declares all smugly, stealing a kiss from you as his prize. He pecks your lips, relishing in that little smacking noise as he runs his tongue over your sweet lip gloss. Rafe hums against your lips, the sound low and content, thumb brushing on your cheeks again all soft and slow before you pull away, giving him one more peck. "PDA much?" You chastise.
The next room is darker, chilly with massive glowing tanks. The shark exhibits curves along a wide tunnel, glass stretching overhead so the water surrounds you from above. It's beautiful.
His hand tightens around yours as his gaze lifts, drawn up. One of the bigger sharks, long and grayish blue, swims overhead right as you enter, and Rafe freezes beside you, eyes sparkling. He lets out a low whistle. "Okay… okay, that's kinda sick."
You turn your head and smile up at him because you knew this would be his favorite part. "Told you." Rafe doesn't answer. He's too busy watching the tank now, eyes wide and bright in the low light, mouth parted just a little. One of the sharks curves sharply and darts away through a cloud of fish, and he steps closer to the glass.
His face looks different here as it's lit blue and dreamy. His tiny freckles are glowing faintly under the tank light, and his lashes skim his brow bone when he tilts his head to follow the movement. You blink, caught off guard by how pretty he is when he's distracted, and so subtly, you lift your phone and snap a quick picture.
Rafe hears the click and immediately whips around. "Did you just take a picture of me?"
You grin, backing up a step. "Yeah. You looked cute."
His brows pinch like he's gonna argue, but then you flip the phone around and show him.
His face in the picture is soft and boyish. He's smiling a little, all awe-struck and caught up, not even aware of the camera. His eyes are glittering from the light off the glass, and his cheeks are flushed, and he looks so sweet that you could eat him up.
Rafe stares at it for a beat, expression unreadable. "…Delete it."
You gasp, snatching the phone back before he can grab it. "No! It's so precious!"
He follows you. "Delete it or I'm throwing you into the jellyfish tank."
You squeal and dodge, laughing as you spin away, clutching the phone to your chest. "You're just mad I caught you being soft."
"I wasn't soft, I was admiring a predator," he snaps, chasing you around a tank pillar. "Sharks are apex, baby. I was in my element." He catches you around the waist, hands warm and a little greedy, pulling you in. Your laughter gets cut off when he dips his head and kisses you again suddenly like he forgot what he was doing and couldn't help himself. "mmh, rafe..." you moan against his mouth, lacing your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply
He groans softly when you melt into him, big hands spread wide at your lower back. His fingers keep brushing over the hem of your shirt like he's tempted to sneak underneath and feel your creamy skin and soft curves. He pulls you closer until there's not even an inch between you, kissing you like he forgot you were still in public.
Rafe backs you up against the glass, one hand still tight around your waist, the other shamelessly grabbing a handful of your ass like he owns it. He groans into your mouth when you kiss him back the same way, fingers curling in the back of his shirt.
"God, baby," he breathes against your lips, barely pulling back, still chasing your mouth like he’s starved. "You taste so fuckin' sweet... why do you always taste so good, huh?"
You're both breathless from all the kissing, cheeks warm and lips a little swollen, still tangled up in each other against the tank wall. He nuzzles at you, grinning smugly as he starts to nip at your neck, before trailing kisses back up to your mouth and placing one final sloppy kiss on your mouth, then another, and another, until they're quick little pecks that he knows make you giggle and squirm.
"Excuse me, clingy, we're in public," you murmur, trying to scold him even though you're clearly enjoying his little annoying smooches.
"So?" he says smugly, arms still wrapped around you. "You love it."
You laugh and poke his dimples. "Tolerate is the right word."
He gasps like you wounded him. "That's mean. Say you're sorry." He frowns at you playfully, tipping his forehead against yours. "Such a little brat."
You pout at him, but you're still tucked up close against his chest, his arms caging you in like he doesn't ever want to let you go. He leans down again. "Look who's being distracting now. Lemme go look at my sharks." You laugh and shove him. "You're the one who can't keep your hands off."
By the time you make it to the gift shop, your legs are a little tired and your cheeks hurt from how much you've been smiling with all the fun you’ve been having, but you don't care. You're practically skipping, still warm from the fun date you had, and he's walking just beside you, his arm slung lazily over your shoulder.
The gift shop is so cute. There's music from The Little Mermaid soundtrack playing and shelves of plush toys and racks of glow-in-the-dark hoodies, and you’re obsessed. You pick up a bright blue squid hat with little dangling tentacles and two big cartoon eyes on top, and Rafe puts it on your head, shoving it too low so that it covers your eyes just to mess with you. "Perfect," he says smugly, adjusting it crooked just to piss you off. "You look like a weird mascot, baby."
You lift the squid hat back up and pray he didn’t smudge your mascara. You'd punch him if he did. Then, you reach for a pair of giant shark goggles with LED lights in the eyes and sharp fake teeth under the frames. "You have to wear these to match, Rafe! Look how cute!"
He snorts. "No way." You raise your brows, taking a step toward the cashier. "Fine. Then I'm buying them anyway, and you're wearing them in our souvenir photo."
"Baby, no." he groans, but by then you're already marching to the cashier with the squid hat, the shark goggles, a plush jellyfish, and the keychain photo package, staring up at him with doe eyes and waiting for him to pay. He groans, getting out his card again as you beam and leave a kiss on his shoulder as a thank you while he mutters, "Better be getting some good head tonight."
Rafe lets you drag him over to the little picture booth, smiling in each one and copying whatever pose you wanna do. In the final photo, you're on his lap in your squid hat, cheeks warm from laughter, and Rafe's got the goggles on, kissing you for the photo.
You get the picture printed on one of those little plastic keychains with glitter floating inside, and you marvel at it, tipping it up and down so the water and glitter move around. Rafe just shakes his head and walks with you out to the parking lot as the sky darkens, still wearing the goggles and smiling at the way he's made you so happy today.
You get to his car and slide into the passenger seat like you always do, hugging the pufferfish to your chest. "You're gonna put that on your keys," Rafe says, teasingly, reaching to hold your thigh while he drives.
You nod and play with his fingers. "I am! You look so adorable, Ray. Everyone should see. Especially all your kook friends who think you're so tough and cool."
He huffs out a laugh, fingers curling around the steering wheel, and glances sideways at you. "You're lucky you're cute, baby. Otherwise I'd make you walk home in the dorky squid hat."
"I'll drown him in the stingray tank," he adds, quieter this time. "Make it look like an accident."
hot as fuck
Rafe watches your face instead of the water, not saying anything else when you finally reach into the water with both hands, glowing in the blue light. He just leans his elbows on the edge beside you, chin propped in his palm, and watches you like you're the exhibit.
🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
"I'm a stingray whisperer now," he declares all smugly, stealing a kiss from you as his prize.
Rafe didn’t know what possessed him to walk into the flower shop.
Maybe it was the ridiculous heat. Maybe it was the sign outside that said “Today’s Special: Sunflowers and Serotonin!” Or maybe it was you, standing behind the counter, tucking a daisy behind your ear like it belonged there in your pretty hair.
He stopped in the doorway and promptly forgot how to breathe.
You looked up with that soft, welcoming smile. “Hi there! Looking for something special?”
Rafe blinked. Then blinked again. “Uh…”
You tilted your head, waiting patiently.
“…Yeah,” he finally said, eyes darting wildly around the store. “I need… flowers.”
Your smile grew. “Well, you’re in luck. That is what we sell here.”
Rafe cleared his throat. “Right. Yeah. Obviously.”
You gently walked over, wiping your hands on your apron, completely unaware of the war Rafe was having internally over how pretty you looked surrounded by petals and sunlight. “Do you have someone in mind? A girlfriend? Anniversary? Apology bouquet?”
“No! I mean—no, not… no girlfriend.” He paused. “I mean, not yet.”
He immediately wanted to slam his head into a vase.
You laughed, the kind of laugh that sounded like the beginning of spring. “Alright then, mystery bouquet it is.”
Rafe nodded, gripping the edge of the counter like it was keeping him upright. “Cool. Cool, yeah. Just, uh… make it something that says ‘I like flowers, but also I’m, like, masculine?’”
You raised an eyebrow but didn’t tease him. “I think I’ve got just the thing.”
Ten minutes later, he left with a wildly chaotic bouquet of wildflowers and eucalyptus, cheeks slightly pink, and your business card tucked in the pocket of his hoodie.
He swore he didn’t even like flowers. But now? Now he needed a reason to come back tomorrow.
Maybe he’d say his “non-girlfriend” really liked the bouquet.
Even if he never gave it to anyone but himself.
...
By the third week in a row, you’d stopped asking why Rafe was back.
But he still offered an excuse. Every time.
“These?” he said, glancing at the pastel bouquet you’d just wrapped for him, the one he picked out himself with surprising focus. “Uh… they’re for my aunt.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You said last week’s were for your aunt.”
“Right. Yeah. Different aunt. On the other side. Of… the country.”
You tried not to smile. “Must be a lot of birthdays in your family.”
Rafe nodded solemnly, like he was grieving the sheer number of imaginary relatives he had to account for. “Yeah. Big flower crowd. We’re, uh, really emotional people.”
The bell above the door chimed as he left, muttering something about 'floral therapy.'
You watched him go, messy hair, sweatshirt sleeves half-pushed up, carrying a bouquet like it was a precious artifact, and shook your head, heart a little warm.
You had no idea where the flowers were actually going. But you had a strong suspicion they were sitting on his kitchen table. Next to last week’s. And the week before that.
...
It started as a casual thing, just a silly game you played when business was slow and Rafe dropped by, pretending to browse.
You’d hold up a bloom and quiz him.
“Okay, what’s this one mean?”
He squinted at the delicate purple petals. “Uh… it’s giving... mild anxiety?”
You laughed. “Lavender. It means serenity.”
He rolled his eyes. “Same thing.”
The next time, you handed him a daffodil. “This one?”
“Sunshine? Or, like, happy?”
“Rebirth,” you grinned, “but I like your answer too.”
Over the weeks, he got better. Remembered a few. Asked questions. You didn’t think he was taking it seriously, until one rainy morning when you arrived to unlock the shop and nearly tripped over something on the front step.
A bouquet.
Messy, imperfect, and so very Rafe.
Red tulips. Honeysuckle. White lilac. A sprig of camellia.
Declarations of love. Bonds that can’t be broken. Youthful longing. Admiration.
Tied together with something makeshift: a gray hoodie drawstring knotted around the stems, fraying a little at the ends.
No card.
But you didn’t need one. Because when you looked up, Rafe was across the street, umbrella in hand, pretending to check his phone, failing to hide the smile tugging at his lips.
You ducked your head, cheeks warm, heart thudding.
You’d teach him the meaning of every flower in the world. But he just taught you what it meant to be seen.
Hi my love, could you do a gynecologist!rafe but with sex toys??
warnings: pt.2, age gap, medical kink, doctor/patient power dynamic, vibrator use, unprotected vaginal sex, overstimulation, orgasm control, creampie, praise + degradation, explicit language, breeding talk, not proofread!
pairing: gynecologist!rafe x reader
you don’t even ask why the room looks different today.
there’s no paper sheet this time, no stirrups either. just a soft leather bench—low, cushioned—and a warm towel already laid out for you to sit on.
rafe closes the door gently behind you, locks it, then turns.
“i’m trying a new setup,” he says casually, like it’s nothing. “just you and me. and a few pieces of equipment.”
you blink at the black cloth he’s unfolding. laid out inside: a sleek silver bullet vibrator, a thicker pink wand, a long toy that curves upward, and… a pair of wireless earbuds?
your mouth opens. “what’s that for?”
he smiles, calm and professional. “this is a focused stimulation protocol. we’ll be testing internal and external response patterns. i’ll be tracking your body’s reactions—tightness, temperature, muscle tension, vocalization. if you follow direction, we’ll finish with penetration.”
you swallow hard. “oh—okay.."
he helps you out of your clothes slowly. he deliberately folds them, setting them aside.
he has you lie back, legs open, hands relaxed at your sides.
“deep breath for me,” he says, voice low as he clicks the wand on. “and keep your eyes on me.”
the wand touches your clit and your hips jerk. it’s too much—you’re already sensitive from just being there, bare and watched under his gaze.
he hums in approval.
“good. you're very responsive. now don’t move.”
he keeps it there. doesn’t push, doesn’t thrust, just holds it steady while his other hand gently strokes your inner thigh. you’re panting, thighs already shaking. when you moan, he shushes you softly.
“quiet. you’ll distract the data.”
your orgasm hits like a wave—slow, rolling, overwhelming. you cry out without meaning to, clutching at the edge of the bench.
“mhm,” he says, making a little note in the tablet beside him. “that’s one.”
you barely recover before he’s sliding the curved toy inside you—warm, lube-slicked, angled perfectly—and turning that on too.
you feel it immediately, deep pressure that makes your toes curl.
rafe watches your face closely. “g-spot stimulation,” he murmurs. “let’s see if it triggers another release.”
you whimper, eyes glassy. “dr. cameron—feels so full—”
“you’re doing so well,” he murmurs, pressing the wand back to your clit at the same time. “just one more.”
you scream into your arm as you come again, harder this time.
wetter.
you don’t even realize you’re crying until his thumb wipes your cheek.
“beautiful baby. perfect reactions.” his voice is quieter now. “you’re ready.”
he sets the toys aside, wipes you down with something warm and gentle. then unbuckles his belt.
his cock is thick, flushed, leaking at the tip as he strokes it once.
“last part of the exam,” he says, voice rough.
“i need to feel you around me. just to confirm everything’s working the way it should.”
you nod, dazed. “yes… please. i want it.”
he sinks into you slow—slow enough to feel every inch.
you moan, eyes rolling back.
“fuck,” he groans. “tightest little cunt i’ve ever felt. all that prep and you’re still squeezing me."
you are, though. you’re so ready it hurts.
he moves with purpose. slow and deep, hitting the same spot the toy had touched. your whole body is electric—every nerve edge-sharp.
“you gonna come on my cock now?” he pants.
“gonna let me fuck another one out of you?”
you nod desperately, nails digging into the bench. “yes—yes, i’m coming—!”
he doesn’t stop. he fucks you through it, keeps going until your moans fall apart and your thighs shake uncontrollably.
“gonna fill this little pussy up,” he grits, breath stuttering. “need to see how your body reacts to cum. medical necessity, baby.”
you cry out as he finishes inside you, hips pressed deep, holding you full.
he stays there for a long moment. breathing with you. keeping you close.
“we’ll run a follow-up in seventy-two hours. i’ll want another sample then.”
Hiii!! Can I request gynecologist rafe x fem reader that can’t orgasm and he helps her (some smut)
Tysm, love your stories!! <3
warnings: smut, taboo, age gap (19/29), medical kink, orgasm therapy, fingering, dirty talk, dominant!rafe, nervous!reader, lowercase
pairing: gynecologist!rafe cameron x fem!reader
you’re not sure what’s worse—the paper gown, the stirrups, or the fact that the man standing between your knees is painfully attractive.
dr. rafe cameron.
“first time?”
he asks, voice low and smooth. he doesn’t look like any doctor you’ve ever seen. slicked-back hair, perfect teeth, sleeves rolled up to show strong, veiny forearms. his gold watch catches the light.
you nod. “yeah.”
his eyes flick down to your trembling knees. “nervous?”
“a little,” you whisper, even though your heart’s beating so hard it’s making your chest ache.
he hums, scribbling something on the clipboard.
“you’re nineteen. no birth control. no active partners. but you made this appointment yourself. so what’s goin’ on, baby?”
your cheeks burn.
god.
this is so embarrassing.
you look down at your hands, fingers fidgeting in your lap.
“i… i can’t finish.”
his brow lifts. “what do you mean?”
you hesitate. then, in a small voice, “i’ve never had an orgasm. not with someone. not by myself.”
he doesn’t laugh. doesn’t make a face. he just stares at you for a second like he’s reading you.
“how long you been tryin’?”
you shrug. “a couple of years.. i thought something was wrong with me.”
he steps closer. “nothing’s wrong with you.” a pause. “some girls just need a little help.”
your breath catches. “you mean…?”
his voice drops. “i mean, if you’re open to it, i can do an internal evaluation. a hands-on assessment. we’ll go slow. see if we can figure out what’s keepin’ you from letting go.”
you blink up at him, wide-eyed. “that’s… allowed?”
he smiles. “with your consent? yeah, baby. i’m licensed to make you feel good.”
you shiver.
he helps you lie back on the table, spreading your legs gently into the stirrups. the gown falls open. you’re bare under it. skin prickles as the cool air hits your center.
his eyes drag down your body, hungry. “pretty little thing,” he mutters, almost to himself. then louder, “i’ll start with just one finger.”
you nod, breath shaky.
he gloves up, squirts a little lube onto his fingers, and presses one thick finger inside you. slow. smooth. your body clenches around the intrusion, and he pauses.
“tight,” he murmurs. “you ever use toys?”
you shake your head. “just fingers.”
“makes sense.” he pushes deeper, his other hand resting on your thigh to keep you still. “gonna feel around a little. let me know if anything feels good.”
you can’t speak—you’re already panting. he curls his finger upward, and your hips jolt.
he smirks. “there she is.”
he presses again. and again. and each time your back arches a little more. you’re gasping now, whimpering when he adds a second finger, stretching you wider.
his thumb brushes your clit, slow and steady. “you’ve been waitin’ for this, huh?”
“y-yeah,” you breathe.
“just needed someone to show you how your body works. someone who knows how to make you cum.”
his fingers speed up, thumb rubbing harder. your thighs shake, breath ragged.
“rafe—i—”
he mumbles low. “that’s dr. cameron to you, baby. say it.”
“dr. cameron,” you whine.
“that’s right. say it again when you come.”
your whole body is burning. your hands clutch the paper beneath you, hips grinding into his palm. it builds so fast you almost don’t believe it—your first real orgasm crashing through you like lightning, loud and hot and blinding.
you moan his name as you fall apart, legs trembling. he doesn’t stop until you’re whimpering, too sensitive to take it.
he finally pulls out, fingers glistening. he watches the way your pussy flutters, still clenching around nothing.
“fuck,” he mutters. “we’re definitely gonna need a follow-up appointment.”
the fireworks are through, here we are, me and you - r.c
pairing: rafe x bartender!pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
decided to get back into writing with something smaller and just in time for the NYE! i'm a bit late (obviously) but wanted to write a little piece for my first universe, since it's so dear to my heart! hope all of you add a good, fresh, amazing start to 2025 and if you didn't, it will get better 💘
Rafe Cameron had never cared about New Year’s Eve—never cared about anything that came with it, really.
No resolutions, no countdowns, no stupid superstitions. For years, the only thing NYE had ever been to him was an excuse to get high, shit-faced, or both. Another party, another distraction, another night to drown out the noise in his head.
This year was different, he had you.
“Tell me if it gets too much, okay?”
“Baby, I’m fine,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his chest to calm him down.
Rafe nodded, but you could see the gears turning in his head. He was watching you out of the corner of his eye every second, quietly assessing if you were comfortable, if you were happy.
You leaned against the marble kitchen island, sipping something fizzy from a crystal flute, half-listening as he introduced you to another one of his college buddies. He had his arm slung low around you, the tips of his fingers brushing the hem of your dress like he couldn’t help himself.
“You still good?” he murmured, leaning close so that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear.
You tilted your head to look at him, catching that pretty face that never failed to make your knees weak.
“Yeah,” you confirmed, though the truth was you felt a little out of place. You still weren’t used to this crowd, their polished laughs and overpriced cologne. Maybe you’d never be.
But Rafe made it bearable, he always did.
His eyes traced the curve of your cheek, the way the fairy lights strung across the patio reflected in your eyes. You didn’t notice, busy scanning the room, but to him, you were the only thing worth looking at.
“You’re lying."
Your brow furrowed as you looked back at him.
“What?”
“You’re not fine.” He moved impossibly closer, his free hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, “You always do that little thing with your mouth when you’re uncomfortable.”
You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips twitched. “I’m fine, really. It’s just...not my scene.”
His hand dropped from your face to your hip again, pulling you a fraction closer, like he needed to feel you against him to believe you were really there.
“Okay, let’s eave,” he said, his tone so earnest it made your chest ache.
“Baby,” you sighed, placing a hand on his chest to keep him from spiraling into full protective mode. “You’ve been looking forward to this. I’ll survive a few hours of rich-kid bullshit. Promise.”
His jaw ticked, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your temple, “Don’t care about the stupid party,” he murmured against your skin. “Just wanted to spend the night with you.”
You rolled your eyes again, but this time it was more for show.
“You’re such a sap.”
“Only for you.” The words slipped out so easily, like they’d been sitting on the tip of his tongue all night. He meant every damn syllable.
The night wore on and he stuck to your side like glue. It was endearing, in a way, as he introduced you to his university friends, always with some kind of proud little flourish—like saying your name was his favorite thing to do.
“This is her,” he’d said more than once, his chest puffed up slightly, like just having you on his arm made him the luckiest guy in the room.
The way he looked at you made it hard to stay annoyed. Everyone was polite enough, but Rafe didn’t let any awkwardness linger, always guiding the conversation, nudging you in with a soft “Tell them about that time…” or offering a quick compliment like, “She’s way better at that than I ever was.”
And when one of his friends said something vaguely pretentious, you felt his hand tighten ever so slightly on your waist before he cut in with a sharp, “Yeah, okay, Benji, but tell them about the time you puked on your mom’s Birkin.” His grin was all teeth, but his tone was light—he was still playing nice, but only because of you.
By the time the countdown was close, the party had spilled outside.
The chilly night air nipped at your skin, but you didn’t mind—especially when Rafe shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders without a word.
“Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it tighter around you. It smelled like him—clean, with just a hint of that cologne you loved.
He didn’t respond, just tugged you closer, his hands settling on your hips as he leaned down to look at you. “What are you gonna wish for?”
“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the question.
“At midnight. What are you gonna wish for?” His blue eyes so intense they made your stomach scream.
You laughed, trying to brush off the sudden seriousness in his tone. “Don’t know. A winning lottery ticket, maybe? Health?”
But he didn’t laugh, just kept looking at you like you were the answer to every question he’d ever had.
“What about you? Do you know what you’re gonna wish for?”
His lips twitched into the faintest smile, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Already got everything I need.”
“Be serious."
He shrugged, the gesture almost sheepish, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on your heart.
“I, uh...might’ve wished for you last year,” he admitted, “Didn’t know it was you at the time, but...yeah. Turns out the universe actually listens sometimes.”
You stared at him, completely floored.
“You’re such a fuckin' dork.” You shook your head, trying to tamp down the stupid grin spreading across your face. “You really did the whole thing last year?”
“The whole thing,” he nodded, completely unashamed. “The grapes, the red underwear, the running around the block with a suitcase—”
“No,” you said, giggling now. “You did not.”
“Swear to God,” he shook his head. “Felt so fucking stupid at the time, but...worked, didn’t it?”
You arched a brow, fighting back a chucke. “It didn’t work. It’s all just superstitious bullshit.”
He shrugged, pulling you even closer. “You’re here in my arms, I’m pretty sure it did.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could, the countdown began.
Ten seconds, then nine, then eight…By the time it hit one, his lips were on yours, the sound of fireworks and cheers fading into the background. All you could feel was him—his hands on you, his breath mingling with yours, the quiet hum of contentment settling in your chest.
Maybe he was right. Maybe the universe had been listening.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured against your lips, his voice hardly audible over the cheers and music around you. His forehead rested lightly against yours, his eyes still closed, he couldn’t pull away just yet.
“Happy New Year,” you echoed, your voice teasing. “Though I guess you’re feeling pretty smug right now, huh? Thinking you manifested all this.”
He hummed, his hands trailing up your sides. “Damn right I am. How else do you explain it?”
“I don’t know,” you replied, “Maybe it’s just dumb luck. Or—crazy idea—you charmed me all on your own.”
“Nah,” he said, beaming now. “Luck’s never been my thing. But you? You’re somethin’ else, baby. Don’t think I stood a chance once you walked into my life. If this is what I get every year, I’ll eat a whole fuckin’ vineyard’s worth of grapes next time.”
You snorted, “Don’t push your luck, Cameron. The universe might get tired of your whining.”
“Not whining,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “Just thinkin’ about how lucky I got. Don’t know what I did to deserve this, but...shit, I’m glad I did it.”
“You’re just lucky no one got that on video. Kook Prince Cameron running around like a maniac? The scandal.”
“Don’t care,” he said simply, his tone so sure it made you pause. “Would’ve done it ten times over if it meant finding you.”
He didn’t how someone could be so completely themselves and still feel like his, you were made just for him.
“Rafe…”
“I mean it. You’re everything I ever wanted, baby. I didn’t even know it until you came along. Can’t imagine my life without you.”
Your breath hitched, the vulnerability in his voice wrapping around your heart and squeezing. When he kissed you again, the fireworks in the sky had nothing on the ones between you.
For once, he didn’t need the haze of a party or the numbness of a bottle to feel like he belonged, with you, he already did.
“You’re such a fucking romantic,” you whispered against his lips, your tone soft enough to take the edge off the words.
His cheshire grin returned.
“Guess you bring it out of me.”
You weren’t just someone he loved—you were it for him. His north star, the one thing that made the chaos in his head quiet. When he pulled back from another kiss, his eyes searched yours, a flicker of insecurity showing up.
“Was it dumb?” he asked suddenly, his voice hesitant.
You blinked, still dazed from the kiss. “What?”
“All that shit I said. The universe, the grapes…all of it. Was it too much?” He tried to laugh it off.
You shook your head, smiling in that way that always knocked the wind out of him.
“Not dumb. Kind of crazy, maybe, but sweet. Really sweet.”
His lips turned into a lopsided grin, relief flooding his features.
“Good,” he said, his voice firmer now. “’Cause I meant every word. Don’t tell anyone, though. Gotta keep up my rep.”
You laughed, and the sound was like a balm to his soul. He’d fight the whole fucking world to keep that laugh in his life. Your hands slid up to rest on his chest, your touch soft, familiar.
Safe.
“Tell me about this rep of yours.”
Rafe smiled to ear to ear, the devilish glow in his eye making your heart race.
“Y’know, bad boy, troublemaker, heartbreaker…” He trailed off, his smirk turning cocky. “And, uh, not to brag, but pretty great in bed.”
You froze for half a beat, pushing at his chest.
“Oh my God. Why would you even—ugh, you’re impossible.”
“What?” he asked innocently, though his expression betrayed him. “Just stating facts, baby.”
The teasing in his tone enough to make you groan.
“You’re disgusting,” you shot back, biting your lip to keep from squealing like an love sick fool.
“Disgustingly good-looking,” he corrected, leaning closer. “And disgustingly in love with you.”
You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.
“Nope. I take it back. I take all my kisses back.”
“You can’t do that!” He straightened, looking mock-offended.
“I can, and I just did.” You crossed your arms, stepping back just far enough to make him frown.
He followed instantly, tugging you back by the waist. “That’s not how it works, baby,” he said, dipping his head so his lips hovered just above yours. “You give ‘em to me, they’re mine. No refunds.”
You tried to glare, but the way his voice dipped on the last two words made your entire body shudder.
“See,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then another. And another. He trailed them down to your jaw, his grin widening with each one, “All mine.”
You raised a brow, trying to act unimpressed even as his voice sent shivers down your spine. “If this is your way of trying to get laid, it’s pathetic.”
“Pathetic?” he repeated, mock horror lighting up his features. “Baby, you were literally begging for it last night—”
Your jaw dropped, your cheeks flaming. “Rafe!” you hissed, shoving at his chest, but he didn’t budge.
“What?” he said, all fake innocence, even as his face turned downright wolfish. “’m just being honest. You said you liked it when I—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” you warned, but he could hear the laugh bubbling just beneath the surface.
“Uh-huh,” he hummed, his nose brushing against yours as his lips finally, finally captured yours.
The kiss started slow, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you gave in, parting them for him.
The second you did, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a possessiveness that made your toes curl. He tasted like whiskey and mint, your favorites. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling just right as he claimed your mouth like it was his job.
You moaned softly into the kiss, your fingers curling into the lapels of his shirt to keep yourself standing. He took that as encouragement, biting down gently on your bottom lip before soothing the sting with a slow, wet drag of his tongue.
“Thought you were taking all your kisses back,” he muttered against your lips, his voice taunting as he pulled back just enough to make you chase him.
“Still considering it,” you panted, though the way you tugged him closer said otherwise.
His lips were on yours again, it made your head spin. His teeth grazed your lip again, and when you gasped, he licked into your mouth, groaning softly as he tasted you. When he pulled back just a smidge, a thin string of spit connected your mouths, and the sight of it made your cheeks burn all over again.
“Y’know,” he said, his voice husky as he used his thumb to wipe the corner of your swollen lips. “If you keep kissing me like that, we might have to skip the rest of this party.”
You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him, “You think I’m that easy to distract?”
“Don’t need to think,” he mused as his hands slid lower, resting on the curve of your ass. “Pretty sure I just proved it.”
You sighed, but it wasn’t with exasperation—it was amusement, adoration.
Your your fingers brushed the collar of his shirt as you traced his cheek, “Skipping the party, huh?” you murmured, your lips brushing against his just enough to drive him crazy. “What would we even do instead?”
His hold tightened on your skin, his voice dipping into a near growl as he answered, “Baby, I can think of a few things.”
The heat in his eyes made your cheeks flush, and this time around you didn’t attempt to hide the shit-eating smile taking over your face.
“You’re not even a little subtle, are you?”
“Not when it comes to you,” he admitted, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours again.
Summary: Running away from home to become a pornstar was never in your books. Having to move in with some asshole wan't in it either. Surely living in a house with someone you dislike can't be hard. It's just work, that's all it is. Right?
Warnings: Mentions of abuse (Just a slap), let me if I missed any
Wc:4.5K
Chapter 11: This is Home
series master list
Twelve
Twelve videos play in the back of your mind like an endless movie. After lunch with Liz you went back to the house and pulled out your computer. It took a while but you eventually found the videos buried under his page. She was good. You fell down the rabbit hole of looking her up and you now know everything. She’s gone through three different hair colors: brunette, blue, and blonde. There are a lot of videos on her page but only twelve have Rafe in it.
What could have happened within twelve video’s to blow everything up?
Every time you see him all you can picture is the way he was with her. You don’t know why you keep torturing yourself with it but you do. It’s like the videos are taunting you just sitting there to make your day worse. It’s gotten to the point where Rafe knows something is up but has been waiting for you to say something first. Which is never going to happen.
“You’ve been quiet recently.” The two of you are lying in bed not wanting to get up. Last night you went out with Amelia and her girlfriend. It was late when you had gotten back so waking up early was hard. “You’ve been chatty recently.” Rafe smiles at your comeback, letting out a little chuckle. Scooting closer, he lays his arm over your waist. “Compensating the fact you’ve been radio silent.”
“Liz and I ran into Beth at lunch last week.” His fingers rub up and down your spine. You watch his face not really seeing a change. “Is that a new worker or something?” It doesn’t seem like he’s hiding anything. You’ve seen him lie before and he’s not that great at it. “No, an old one.” It took a moment but it finally clicked.
“Fuck is she coming back?” His fingers stop moving causing your heart rate to pick up. “Do you want her to come back?” There’s silence as you wait for your answer. Rafe uses his pointer and thumb to move your chin so you are looking at him. “Star, are you jealous?” A small smirk plays on his face but it’s not his usual one. You scoff and go to brush his hand away but he won’t let you.
“No, I don’t want her to come back.” When you still don’t look at him he shuffles closer. “I was happy when she left. She was practically obsessed with me to the point I was ready to leave. She just beat me to it.” Your eyes flicker to him. “Really?” Being so close to each other, you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes.
“At first it was cool but then she wanted to continue outside of filming.” You take a deep breath knowing where this goes. “Slept with her like three times before realizing that was a mistake. I called it off and she kind of went crazy. Then a month or two later she was gone so never had to worry about it again.” The two of you sit there for what feels like forever just looking at each other.
Your chest feels like it’s being crushed with each breath. “That must’ve sucked.” You flip onto your back so you stare at that ceiling trying to figure out what to say. “That’ll never happen with us, you know.” The bed dips beside you as Rafe sits up, leaning a bit to be in your view. “Yeah because you aren’t a psycho like her. That’s why I like you and why things are different.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips.
You get lost in the feeling, letting the words sink in. Was he trying to tell you something or are you ready too much into it? When he pulls away you try to chase his lips but he gets up. Come on, we told Wheezie we would go out today and it’s already ten o’clock. You squeal as he pulls your legs making you lay on the edge of the bed. He pulls you up so you’re sitting and he’s between your legs. “You know Wheezie and the girl down the street became friends.”
Rafe kisses the side of your mouth moving along until he reaches your jaw. “She asked if Wheeze wanted to have a slumber party tonight.” You giggle when he kisses underneath your jaw. “Yeah? A house all to ourselves doesn’t sound bad.” You moan as he sucks lightly on your neck. He hums before kissing the spot right below your ear. “Gotta lot planned for you so hurry up.”
He leaves you on the bed and heads over to the bathroom. SItting there for a moment you collect yourself. So what if he slept with Beth because he’s right. Things are different and nothings going to change that.
“I want to go see the bamboo sharks.” Wheeze is slightly ahead of the two of you. She maneuvers her way around the sea of people kind of disappearing from view. “Well that didn’t take long.” Rafe wraps an arm around your shoulder pulling you close into his side. “Didn’t take her as a shark girl.” A bunch of kids run past the two of you, one of them bumping into your leg.
“Sorry about that. They're just super excited.” A woman you assume is their mum yells as she runs past you to catch up to them. “Gosh I could never have that many kids. I would lose my mind.” You watch as the mom struggles to group the five kids. “You want kids?” He moves you in front of him when you get to the interactive exhibit.
Wheezie is off to the side with her hand in the water touching the little sharks as they swim by. “Maybe someday. I’d like to have some in the future but who knows.” You shrug off the thought, not sure on how to feel. “What about you?” You look over your shoulder to see him looking at the display in front of the two of you.
“I don’t know. Never really saw myself having kids. Plus I’d probably be shit father just like mine.” He means it. There’s an edge to his voice telling you he believes those words. “Then why did Wheeze run to you when things got bad?” He shifts his gaze to you, shocked by the question. “What?”
“If you were really as bad as him, she wouldn’t have come to you. To me that shows you’d be a good dad. Also all parents have their faults, no one’s perfect.” Without thinking he just kisses you. More like making out with you for a second before remembering where he was. “Sorry.” He mumbles on your lips before pulling back. You clear your throat and smile at the older lady who is definitely side eyeing the two of you.
Rafe starts walking the two of you closer to where Wheezie is standing. A flash of Beth’s baby attacks your memories. The kid must be around four or five months old. If you do the math she would have still been working at the company. Which means she was still sleeping with Rafe. “What if you found out you had a secret baby out there. Would that change things?”
Your eyes bulge out after you finish speaking. Fuck you need to really think before talking. “Why are you pregnant?” Your head swivels to look at him. He’s watching you with a goofy grin trying not to laugh. Shoving him lightly you shift your gaze back to the miniature reef. “I guess it would be different.” His fingers graze the back of your neck.
Using his grip he turns you around. “Just know if it's a boy, his name is Rafe jr.” He laughs at his own joke making it even more stupid. “Whatever like that would ever happen.” You push him off of you causing him to chase after you. He speed walks trying not to trample kids as you walk further away from him.
“Oh come one. Junior would be cute and we can take him here.” When he reaches you, he picks you up, moving the two of you slightly away from everyone. “We can tell him how you surprised me right here.” He’s fighting back laughter with each word. “You’re so dumb just forget I said anything.” You giggle out as you roll your eyes.
“Hey you were the one asking weird questions. You okay?” His left hand raises to your face. He cups your cheek letting his thumb stroke the skin. Maybe you’re over thinking everything. Yeah that’s exactly what you are doing. “I’m good. Just think junior really wants to see the jelly fish.” A grin spreads across his face and he shakes his head. “Look who’s the dumb one now.”
He brings you back over to where Wheezie is. “Come on, give the kids a chance.” The teenage girl huffs as she retracts her hands from the water. She wipes them off on her jeans before linking an arm through yours. “Fine but I think we should look at the seals.” She tries to drag you all there but Rafe redirects her to the tanks that have jellyfish.
“Sorry kid, making a pitstop first.”
The three of you go around looking at all of the animals there. Wheezie throws out random facts and Rafe throws out some of his own. “Since when were you a marine biologist?” The tips of Rafe’s ears become red. He clears his throat and slows down his pace. Wheezie walks ahead of the two of you – giving you both privacy without realizing.
“Uh, I liked the ocean when I was a kid. We had the marsh behind our house and I was always in it.” He places his hands in his pockets. In a way he looks like he’s trying to hide himself. “I used to read a lot of books about the ocean. Then whenever Wheeze or Sarah were upset I’d list off facts.” You smile at the mental image.
The picture of little Rafe comforting his younger sister with facts is sweet. “As Wheezie got older we bonded over it. Kinda our thing.” Who is this guy? You look over to Wheezie that's looking at the large wall of glass. She looks over at the two of you, giving you a smile before looking back. “I can go look around so you too get some time alone.”
Rafe turns you so you are looking at him. “Nah we like you around. Also it gets boring telling facts to someone who already knows.” You push his shoulder lightly but he catches your hand. Using his grip he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. He looks at your lips and then back up to your eyes.
“Are you going to kiss?”
The two of you look to the right to see a little boy next to you. “My mommy and daddy kiss all the time.” He walks a little closer and you two step away from each other. “My name is Zack. You know my dad looks at my mom like that.” You two share a look of confusion. “Is she your girlfriend?” His little eyes stare up at the both of you with some type of look.
“She is.” Zack smiles and gives Rafe a thumbs up. “She’s really pretty. You did a good job.” Rafe smiles and grabs your hand to give it a kiss. “She’s the best.” The little boy looks over his shoulder and points to a couple with a baby. “I should go. It’s my sister Emma’s first time here.” He runs off, waving as he trips over his foot. “I’m okay! Bye!”
Rafe starts to walk off, saying something about Zack being adorable. But all you can think about is he said yes. He said that you were his girlfriend. The rest of the day you try to ignore the anxious nagging feeling in your stomach. He definitely said it to please the boy. Let’s face it Rafe doesn’t want anything serious. Which is totally fine.
“What do you want?” Rafe snaps you out of your thoughts and you look over at him. “What?” Does he know how you’re feeling? Then you realize you are already at the drive through. “Um the number seven with a dr.pepper.” Wheezie stumbles out her order before closing her eyes again. After the aquarium you all went walking around and looked at the shops that were around. Guess it must have tired her out.
The food comes out soon and you are on the road again. You all eat in silence while the radio softly plays music. The burger you had is soon gone and you are picking at the last of your fries. “I had fun today.” You look at Rafe and can see Wheezie sleeping in the back from the corner of your eye. “Me too.” His right hand reaches over the center counsel to hold your hand. A lump forms in your throat that you try to drown with dr.pepper.
“I meant what I said to that kid, star. You’re mine.” Your eyes widen a bit and you look back to make sure Wheeze is still sleeping. “Rafe.” He cuts you off before you could keep speaking. “I like what we have. Everything feels different with you. I don't know how to explain it.” His hand squeezes yours a little tighter. “I get it.” Rafe spares you a glance before looking back at the road.
“You do?” You nod your head before realizing he can’t see. Taking a deep breath you look at the road ahead of you. “Everything feels easy like it should be happening. It’s how I feel.” Rafe grins and kisses your hand. “So we’re on the same page?” You agree while trying to suppress a smile. “Yes we are.” You thought it would be weird if your feelings changed.
At first you thought Rafe was just some shallow guy. But now you see him way differently. He’s sweet when he wants to be. He makes you feel safe and seen, which is something that hasn’t happened in a long time. The car rolls to a stop at a red light and you take the opportunity. You grab the collar of his shirt and bring him in for a kiss. He gives in, kissing you harder and getting lost in it. The car behind you honks and you see that the light had turned green.
He drives the rest of the way home. You both chat about random things, mostly you begging him to tell you ocean facts. Wheezie wakes up right before you get home, joining in to tell you something about sharks. As Rafe is pulling up to the house you can see a car parked in the driveway. Wheezie sits up more, leaning forward to get a good look. “Isn’t that dad’s car?”
Her voice shakes as she speaks. Rafe doesn’t say anything as he parks and gets out of the car. You follow along and hand Wheeze the keys so she can go inside. She starts to walk to the door but the driver side door of the other car opens. “Honey pack your things and get in the car.”
Ward steps out trying to make his way over to his youngest child. Rafe gets in front of him to block his dad from walking closer. You walk over to where Rafe is not knowing what you should do. “Get inside the house.” Rafe doesn’t take his eyes off the older man as he speaks. “Your sister isn’t staying here. I let her throw her tantrum and now she needs to come home.” Wheezie stays at the front entrance watching what is unfolding in front of the two of you.
“She doesn’t want to go with you. I’m not letting you take her.” Ward laughs, shaking his head while his hand runs through his beard. His hands rest on his hips as he looks back at Rafe. “You really think I’m going to let her keep staying here. A whore and a junkie, what a great example.” In a flash Rafe had his dad pressed against his car. Rafe’s hand rests on Ward's neck and his left hand is pointed at him.
“Talk about her like that again I fucking dare you.” You rush over trying to separate the two but Rafe doesn’t budge. “You’re a fuck up too. The only kid that is still around only tolerates you because you’re such a piece of shit. We’re screw ups because you’re one.” Ward’s nostrils flare and his eyes look cold. “I’ll call the cops. She’s still a minor and I can say you kidnapped her.” Your eyes widen as you look between the two of them.
“Rafe just let him go.” He listens but doesn’t back away. Ward takes a few deep breaths and clears his throat. “Dad hit me before I left. That’s why I came here.” All heads whip over to look at Wheezie who has tears in her eyes. “He was yelling at me over my grades, comparing me to Sarah. I yelled back and that’s when he hit me. All because I got one C.” Ward looks more pissed and he tries to take a step forward.
“That’s enough.” Rafe slams his dad back into the car. Ward tries to fight back but Rafe slams him into it again even harder. “You have two options. One I call the cops and I ruin your precious reputation. Or the smart option, you get the fuck out.” Rafe grabs Ward’s face moving it around lightly in a mocking way. “But I promise you the next time I see you I’ll make you regret it. Stay the hell away from Wheezie and don’t ever come around us again.”
Rafe backs away and grabs your hand to drag you into the house. When the door is locked he lets go of your hand and walks down the hall. You look out the window watching as Ward kicks his tires. He takes his phone out and calls someone. You can see him talking loudly before getting into the car. The black truck pulls out the driveway.
Tears well in your eyes imagining how scared Wheezie must have felt. You walk down the halls and find your old bedroom door. Pressing your ears against the door you can hear Rafe talking to her lightly. Taking a step back you sit down right across the hall waiting until the door opens. You don’t want to interrupt them and you think she really needs her brother.
After a while you hear footsteps and the door opens. Rafe steps out and quickly shuts the door behind him. “She’s sleeping.” You nod your head and look up at him. His eyes are rimmed with a crimson color. “I shouldn’t have left.” You rush to get up and embrace him in a hug. His arms wrap around your waist squeezing you tightly to him. “This wouldn’t have happened if I was still there.” He lets out a little sob, burying his head in your shoulder.
Slowly you help him find his room and lay down in the bed. He holds you close to him, running his fingers up and down your arm. “I shouldn’t have left.” You take a deep breath before speaking. “Would you have been happy if you stayed?” He laughs a little and answers no. “I would probably be dead by now if I stayed.” He goes quiet for a little.
“Was in the wrong crowd back home. Funny enough but Jared kinda saved me with this job.” Thinking back to it they have always seemed close. Sure he had Topper and Kelce but Jared was also the closest friend you’ve seen Rafe have. Which isn’t that weird because you have Liz. “I get what you mean. If it wasn’t for Liz I probably wouldn’t be here too.”
Rafe starts to chuckle. The bed shakes as he starts to laugh harder. “Kind of funny how similar we are. Our family fucking sucks.” He starts laughing again. When you think about it — yeah you two are similar. “It’s a good thing we got each other.” You look over to see his reaction but he catches you off guard with a kiss. “Definitely a good thing.”
For at least another hour the two of you talk about anything that comes to mind. You fell asleep first while talking about the time your grandmother took you to antique shopping for your birthday. Rafe layed there for a few more moments just watching you sleep. His left hand pushes a bit of hair that fell onto your face. Your nose twitches lightly when a strand of hair brushes against it. “Please don’t leave me.” He whispers to no one but himself — hoping that some deity would grant him at least that.
His eyes fight him to close and he slips off into sleep alongside you. The next morning he wakes up to you snuggled into his side and Wheezie behind you. He moves around a little which causes you to wake up. “She came in during the middle of the night. Told her she could stay.” He kisses the top of your head and mumbles an ‘okay’.
Birds are chirping in the tree outside the window. Normally they piss him off but today it’s not that bad. Closing his eyes, he tries to soak in this feeling of calmness. There’s loud knocking coming from down the hall. It’s probably a neighbor so Rafe just ignores it but the knocks keep coming. With a groan he gets up, telling you to stay here as he handles it.
He rubs his eyes as he walks down the hall and opens the front door. Sarah stands there with an angry expression. Behind her is John B with the rest of their friends. “What the hell are you doing?” He questions as Sarah bulldozes past him and the rest follow her. “Wheezie! Where are you?” John B gets up in his face, pushing him backwards and away from Sarah.
“Come on Wheezie. You can leave your things, we’re going home.” Rafe stands up a bit taller now. “She’s not going anywhere near that house again.” John B pushes him again. This time punching him in the gut. “You can’t keep her locked up, man. Sneaking into the house to take her away was low.” Rafe is coughing, catching his breath from the punch.
He looks up at the sound of soft footsteps to see you with a look of horror on your face. “Rafe, are you okay?” Your eyes look around the room to see everyone. “Where’s Wheezie?” Sarah tries to get past you but you block her. “Sleeping and that's how it’s going to stay.” Sarah stares at you and narrows her eyes. It’s cute how she’s trying to act intimidating when she’s really not.
“You’re not her sister.” You audibly laugh which makes her look even more mad. “Well at least I’m not the one dragging her back to a house where someone hits her. If you really cared about her you wouldn’t bring her back.” She looks shocked by what you say. Based on how John B let’s go of Rafe, so is he. The other four stand there awkwardly not knowing what to do.
“That’s really low. Lying is going to save you from what the two of you did.” Wheezie pops up next to you, it seems that she was woken up due to all of the noise. “Isn’t he the same guy who choked you after attempting to kidnap you. It’s real when it happens to you but not when it’s me.” Sarah takes a step back at her younger sister's words.
“News flash Sarah not everything is about you. We get it, you’re perfect and the rest of us live in your shadow. I’m not going back there.” Wheezie wipes tears from her cheeks as she keeps going. “Just go back to dad like we know you will. As long as he has his favorite kid he doesn’t need Rafe or I.” Sarah takes a step forward and reaches out to her.
On instinct you step in front of Wheezie and she hides behind you. Without saying a word you turn around and usher the young girl away from the mess in the front. You locked the both of you in her room and comforted her as she cried.
Rafe waits until you two are in the room before moving past John B. He stands in front of Sarah grabbing her shoulders to get her attention. “Listen, she didn’t mean most of what she said. She’s angry right now.” Sarah looks at her brother with tears in her eyes. “She hates me just like you.” She whispers it as her breathing gets harder. Tears start to roll off her cheeks and her lips quiver.
“Hey it’s going to be okay.” John B places her hand on her back making her jump. She starts to hyperventilate as more tears flow freely. “Did you know jellyfish are older than sharks and dinosaurs?” Rafe speaks without thinking but it grabs Sarah’s attention. She looks at him with childlike eyes. “What does that have to do with any of this?” Kiara tries to argue but Rafe ignores her.
“They are over six hundred and fifty years old. Pretty cool if you think about it since everyone always thinks of the megalodon.” The group stares at Rafe like he has six heads. This is random behavior for him and they are all confused. But then there’s Sarah. His baby sister was staring at him with the same eyes she had as a child. The same ones that stared back at him with hatred. “We don’t hate you. I can’t hate you Sar.” A tear falls from her right cheek.
For a moment he thinks she’s just going to walk away but she hugs him. He doesn’t know what to do for a moment but his brain finally catches up. Wrapping his arms around her, he squeezes her tight to him. The rest of the group gives each other looks and starts to slowly back away. Sarah breaks the hug first, wiping the tears from her face. Rafe clears his throat and speaks. “I’m not letting her go back there.”
Sarah just nods her head in silent agreement. She heads over to the door grabbing John B’s hand for comfort. Just when she’s about to walk out the door she turns around to look at Rafe. “I don’t hate you either.” Rafe stands there alone feeling more than he’s felt in a long time. Heading over to Wheezie’s room he opened the door a crack to see you both talking.
The way you listen to her as you brush your hair makes his heart squeeze. Your eyes make contact and you smile at him and he returns it. He feels an urge to kiss you deeply in this exact moment. He can’t explain why but deep down he knows.
He’s fucked.
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Summary: Running away from home to become a pornstar was never in your books. Having to move in with some asshole wan't in it either. Surely living in a house with someone you dislike can't be hard. It's just work, that's all it is. Right?
Warnings: 18+, smut, rope bondage, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, let me know if I missed any
Wc: 5.6K
Chapter 10: Just You
series master list
“So he didn’t kick you out”
“Well not exactly but he said if I was going to keep defending you that I should just live with you. So if you think about it, he kind of did.” Rafe’s eyes pinch shut as he lets out a harsh breath. “For fucks sake Wheeze we both know that’s not what he meant.” She shrugs and throws her arms up. “Well he should have clarified. Not like he cares anyway. All he does is talk about Sarah or hang out with her.”
You can hear the jealousy in her voice. It has to be hard seeing your parents care about your sibling more than you. Rafe doesn’t say it but you know he feels the same way. He hates that their dad clearly has a favorite and isn’t afraid to show it. “Wheeze how did you even get here?” He gets up and goes to get some chips so she can eat. God, when was the last time she ate?
“I asked Jenny’s sister if she could bring me since she was going to a concert.” Rafe lets out a large sigh and plops himself back down next to her. “Don’t ever do that again okay. Next time you call me and I’ll get you.” Wheeze nods her head, shoving the dill pickle chips in her mouth. The living room is quiet as she eats the chips. You and Rafe are staring at the other trying to figure out what to do.
“Does your dad know you’re here or does nobody know.” She freezes at the question. Her silence was all that you needed for an answer. “Jesus dude.” Rafe gets back up reaching for his phone on the table. “What are you doing?” Wheeze sits up staring as her older brother walks down the hall to his room. “Calling dad.” You sit there really not knowing what to do as Wheeze curses to herself.
She looks stressed as she picks at the skin around her nails. Her leg is bouncing as each second ticks by. “I don’t want to go back.” The little confession broke your silent resolve. Standing up, you walk over to her and give her a brief hug. “You won’t, not if you don’t want to.” You leave her in the living room as you find your way to Rafe’s room. When you enter he’s pacing while on the phone. His eyes met yours in the doorway. You decided to wait there until he was done to talk to him. “I’m not the one who told two of their kids to get out of their house. If you want to complain about someone being a piece of shit then look in the mirror.”
He hangs up before throwing his phone at his bed. Rafe racks his hand through his grown out hair. “He blames me.” He barely gets the words out without his voice cracking. “I call, trying to be responsible but nah it’s my fault.” In a moment of anger he grabs the closest things and chucks it at the wall. It feels like he’s back to his teen self that was aching for his fathers approval. He thought that at least this would get him on his dads good side for some reason.
Taking quick steps you walk over to him, dragging him into a hug. He tries pushing you off but you grab his shirt so you don’t really go anywhere. “Get off of me star.” You shake your head and hold him tighter. “No.” He struggles against you for a little while trying to get you off with no results. Not like he was really trying because if he wanted you would be off of him. Finally he gives in.
Rafe picks you up and sits down on the bed, leaning back so you are on top of him. The noise from the tv softly fills the room as you wait for him to say something. It takes a few more minutes then he cracks. “It’s like no matter what I do it’s wrong.” Resting your chin on his chest you look up at him. His eyes are staring at the ceiling, sneaking a glance at you before looking back up. “Probably because to him you can’t. Doesn’t mean what you are doing is wrong. Just means your dad is a dick who cares about only himself.”
You shift around so you are straddling his waist and looking down at him. In this position forces him to look at you. “Rafe.” He hums in response but his eyes are just off to the side of you. “Can you look at me please.” The tone you have was convincing enough to get him to really look at you. “I’m sorry that your dad is like dad. But Wheezie is in the other room scared that you are going to make her go back. Maybe we need to focus on that first.” His fingers trace your thigh as he racks his brain.
“He’s going to make her go back. Said that this isn’t a house meant for a kid.” You can’t help the laugh you let out. Sure Rafe is still closed off in a way but you’ve learned a lot about him. He’s always felt unloved and unwanted. You know that to this day he wants his dad to look at him like he’s something to be proud of. Not the coked up son that he needs to hide away. “She told me she didn’t want to go back.”
Rafe groans and sits up now being face to face with you. “I’m still trying to figure out how she knew where we lived. She only knows my apartment.” He’s trying to deflect from the problem. “Maybe she chipped you in your sleep.” You giggle at the look of mortification that fell on his face. “I should take you to the vet and have them check.” You laugh harder as he pushes you off of him just to fall on top of you. He starts to tickle you which only makes the laughing worse.
When he relented, you tried to catch your breath only to have it stolen by him kissing you. “Stay here, I'm going to go talk with her.” He backs away still watching you with this lopsided smile, leaving you in his room alone. Seeing as you are confined to this room you take the time to snoop around. You know for sure that Rafe has gone through your things before. There have been a lot of times where you come back to find things out of place. Now it’s just your turn to go through his.
Why is this man so boring?
You went through his dresser only finding clothes on clothes. Then you moved to his night stand. Which shocker also didn’t have anything. All you found was his dab pen that he hits at night to go to bed. Taking it upon yourself, you decide that it is only right if you take a few hits to help relax. The rest of the room gave you the same result. It was a normal room. Well duh, you already knew that, it’s just you expected more.
Rafe talks a big game and there is nothing in this room that proves it. Everything is scrubbed clean as if he didn’t even live here. Just like at his house you can only tell by some photos he has placed around. Just as you're about to give up your foot goes under the bed. Which is weird because you swore there was no space under there. Now that you think about it, Rafe sheets just cover it so you ever noticed.
You check your phone and see that he’s been out there for around eight minutes. You’re sure he’ll take longer. Slowly you slink down to the ground and pull the sheet up. There’s not much under there, just his bags from moving and a box. You know you shouldn’t but you can’t help yourself. After checking to make sure the door was still closed you pull the box out.
Examining the wooden box you can tell that it’s old. There’s pieces of the varnish chipped off and dents into the wood. But right above the latch to open it is a star carved in. Your heart does this weird jump thing where it feels like it's falling but also pounding against your chest. The tips of your fingers graze the carved wood, feeling the grooves of the star. The cold metal latch cools your warmed skin as you go to open it.
“Hey Imma order chinese. What do you want?” Rafe yells from the hall. Shuffling, you put the box back under his bed and laid in the bed. He walks into the room and leans on the door frame. “What was that?” You try to play nonchalant but he can tell something is up. Your hair is all over your face from the sudden movement and the sheets hanging off the bed are slightly moving. His eyes stay on you as he walks closer. “Your order for chinese food.”
The bed creaks as he kneels on it, looming over your body. “General tso chicken and the spicy lo mein noodles.” Your chest heaves up and down as he continues to stare at you. A small smirk spreads across his face before he kisses you. The feather-like kiss has your mind reeling to the point you don’t hear what he says. When you open your eyes again he’s by the door. “Find anything when you were looking around?”
Your cheeks burn red as he backs away. Rafe chuckles as he walks down the hall to Wheezie. “You owe me 5 bucks, that's what she wanted.” He yells to his younger sister as you flop to your back. Screw him. Of course he knew what you were doing here. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had hidden cameras in here. Soft footsteps echo in the hall and you lift your head to the door.
The hinges creak against the pressure as it opens slowly. Wheezie’s face comes into view. The two of you stay there looking at each other. You open your arms to her and she comes over snuggling into your side. “Thank you.” Her arms tighten around you. “Uhh you’re welcome?” You hug her back confused at what she means. She doesn’t say anything for a while.
“He would’ve made me go back so thank you.” You shuffle lower so you can look her in the eyes. “I don’t think so. You’re his favorite.” She giggles but shakes her head. “That’s because nobody cared about us, we only had each other.” It’s scary how much she looks like Rafe at this moment. They share the same broken look that makes your heart hurt. “Sarah loves you and so does Rafe. Pretty sure you have friends who also love you.”
Her eyes fight back tears as you continue. “I may not have known you long but I love you. It’s hard not to love you.” She buries her face in your shoulder trying not to cry. “It sucks when the one person you need is the one who hurts you. That doesn’t mean there aren’t people who love you because we do.” Wheezie stays there playing with the ends of your hair. The same habit her older brother has.
“Foods here.” Rafe says in an obnoxious Jersey accent. All those countless nights of Jersey Shore seem to be getting to him. He stops at the doorway noticing the scene. “Is everything okay?” Wheezie just gets up nodding as she slips past him. You get up also but he blocks you. He looks down at you trying to figure out what happened but you give nothing away. “Just girl talk.”
He steps in front of you again knowing you’re lying. He caught the end of the conversation and knows there’s more to it. “Just want to know she’s okay.” He practically pleads. Sure he hasn’t been the perfect brother before but it’s changed. This is his chance to do better by Wheezie. He might be a lost cause for the rest of his family but at least he has her. Your eyes soften at the way he stares down at you. “She will be. Maybe you should hang out with her and I’ll hang back.”
“I’ll take her out tomorrow. Let’s just watch movies and eat our food.” You want to fight him on it, feeling like they need time without you. Rafe fingers lace through your as he drags you into the kitchen and loads up a plate for you. When you make it to the living room Wheezie is already settled down with Twilight playing. Giggling, you sit on the couch beside the lounge chair she’s in.
A flashback to when you rode Rafe on that very seat a few weeks ago comes to mind. Your cheeks burn red and you try to think of anything else. Maybe you should clean it while they are out tomorrow. Sure Liz has everything cleaned after filming but still. It would make you feel better knowing she won’t be touching anything the two of you slept on. Fuck. Where is she going to sleep? The only spare room here is filled with filming equipment. Then something clicked. You were supposed to be Rafe’s girlfriend.
His girlfriend.
The thought doesn’t actually doesn’t make you as scared as before. After talking you both agreed to be exclusive with no string attached. Which in hindsight seemed to be not holding up. Everyday the two of you are always with each other. The two of you are on each other every second that you can. Not to mention there’s these little moments where you can swear it’s more. Where it feels like you can’t breathe because he just sees you. Moment where it feels like he could actually want something more.
Then you realize it’s just a convenience thing. You’ve become friends but that’s all that it is. “You okay?” A whispered voice asks you. You notice that Rafe came back with all the food on the table and a blanket over the two of you. “Seem out of it.” He takes a bite of the low mein you made him get as he looks at you. SHifting your gaze back to the screen you start eating and tell him you’re fine. He doesn’t really believe it but ignores the feeling.
Three movies later and you are now switching the sheets in your room. “Oh you don’t need to do that.” She looks around your room taking it in. “Why’s all of your stuff in here?” She stares at the photo of you and your grandma from when you were younger. Your hair is wild making you look like a lion to match your costume. It’s one of your favorites. Just before your dad left with Monica and started a new family.
If someone asked when your happiest moment was it would probably be that. Your last halloween before your family fell apart. At least you had a few years left with her before she died. “Saw this thing on tiktok about having separate personal spaces. Thought we would give it a try.” The lie comes in effortlessly since it’s kind of true. You have seen couples doing that so it’s not like you’re fully lying. “Get it I would need space from him too.” She jokes as she settles herself into the bed.
You leave her and make your way to Rafe’s room. You close the door behind you as you make your way to his bed. “Nice save. I forgot to even think of something for the separate rooms.” He pulls you to the bed, snuggling you to his side. This is something he’s been doing lately. After having sex he always pulls you into his side and snuggles you. Sometimes he’ll fall asleep and sometimes you do. Every time it makes your heart jump.
It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep and when you woke up he was gone. Looking at your phone you see it's ten in the morning. Getting up you look around the house to see that it was empty. Entering the kitchen you head to the fridge and notice a note on it. Pulling it off you see that it’s from Rafe.
Took Wheezie out, we’ll be back later. -R
Taking the free time you do what you thought of last night. That couch and loveseat will be getting cleaned. After finding the carpet cleaner or whatever it’s called machine from the closet you got to work. Thank god they keep cleaning supplies here. Neither of you had to buy anything because they already did. Not to mention someone else cleaned every room.
Three hours later you have the cushions laying outside to dry in the sun. The rest you put a hair dry on to help speed up the process. As you move the hairdry back and forth the front door opens. You can hear them laughing as their footsteps get closer. They stop and give you a weird look. “Thought I would do some cleaning. Never know where second hand furniture really comes from.” You joke as you turn off the loud machine.
“Why didn’t you just buy new ones? I thought Rafe made good money.” She questions. You and Rafe share a look not really knowing what you could say. “My friends work at an antique shop and we wanted to support them.” It seems to be a good answer for her because she nods. “Going to put this away.” She gestures to the bag in her hands then to the hallway that leads to the rooms. You watch as she walks away not noticing Rafe walking over to you.
“Leave it, let’s go.” He grabs your hand and drags you up to him. Pushing you forward, he moves you to the front door. “Put your shoes on.” He hands your vans over to you allowing you time to pull them on. Not wasting a second he puts your jacket on and is rushing you out the door. “Rafe stop what are you doing?”
Rafe doesn’t listen as he forces you into his truck. “We’re getting food. Just wanted some time with you without a kid coming along.” His right hand finds yours on your thigh, sliding under it to lace your fingers together. A tingling feeling flutters in your stomach. Turning your head to the window you ignore the feeling. Friends. Yeah… friends is okay.
When you get to the Greek place the both of you make your way in the store. The two of you stand in line looking over the menu deciding what Wheezie might like. From the corner of your eye you can see two girls staring at the two of you. They point to Rafe and giggle to each other as they whisper things. Rafe turns over to see them giving him a wave. He gives them a nod and turns back to the menu as they go crazy from the attention.
You disassociate as Rafe orders and moves you over to the side. “Should be ready in thirty to forty minutes. It’s busy so it’ll be a while.” You nod as you stare back at the girls who keep trying to get Rafe’s attention. The silence from you is unusual. He follows your gaze to catch the girls from earlier. “She’s pretty.” Nodding his head to the girl with curly hair. Rolling your eyes, you walk past him out to the parking lot. “Where are you going?” He chases after you and piles into the truck when you slip in. “I didn’t want to wait in there.”
“I think you’re jealous.” You hate when he does this. He reads you like a book and it pisses you off. “Just didn’t appreciate how they didn’t care that I was there.” He nods as one of his fingers grazes your thigh. “Plus they looked at you like a piece of meat. They could have been subtle with it at least.” The finger gets higher finding the inside of your thigh. His eyes trace the movement as you squirm under him.
“You’re so jealous.” You can hear the smile in his voice as he leans in. “So what if I am?” You don’t know why you admit it but you do. You hated the idea of one of them even having a chance with him. “I don’t know, star. Why don’t you do something about it.” Leaning over the center counsel you pull him into a kiss. He meets you back eagerly, biting your lip in the process. “Shit sorry.” You giggle and peck his lips.
“Pull out your phone.” He gives you a confused look as you unbutton his pants. “Want you to record us.” Rafe fumbles with his phone and he helps you push his pants down. The boxers he was wearing follow along right as he hits record. Just in time to catch you swallowing his tip into your mouth. His other hand rests on the back of your head, moving along with each bob of it. His fingers wind around the strands of your hair when you suck him hard.
“Fuck star. Just like that baby.” You choke as he pushes your head down causing you to deepthroat him. The camera focuses on the way you swallow him up and the flutter of your eyelashes. A few strands of hair fall in front of your face blocking his view of you. “You’re perfect.” He brushes the strands away, tucking them behind your ear as your eyes open to look at him. “My perfect little star.” You moan and release him with a loud pop. He gives you a confused look as you take the phone out of his hand. Before he opens his mouth you kiss him as you start a new video and set it up on the dashboard.
“Need to feel you.” You whisper against his lips. His hands are reaching out to pull you over in a flash. The leggings you were wearing are pulled down your legs and panties pushed to the side. You lean to the side and push the button to have the seat move back. Resting one hand on his chest you use your other hand to help you slide down his cock. “Fuck.” His head falls back and his fingers dig into your hips.
You go to swirl your hips but he stops you. “Need a second. I was about to cum before you stopped.” His eyes are pinched shut as he takes in deep breaths. Looking over your shoulder you see that the camera picks up both of you perfectly. It catches the way he’s struggling to keep his cool. There’s a slight sting on your hip where his nails dig into your hips. You lean in closer running your tongue over his jugular vein. “I think I just realized something.”
He makes a noise and shifts a bit. “What?” You place a kiss right below his ear before whispering. “I think you like it when I’m on top and have control.” A groan comes from him as you slightly move your hips. Your hands push his hands off of you as you lean back and lift yourself just to slam down on him again. “Jesus Christ.” His hands try to stop you but you don’t let him. Or maybe he just didn’t want to put up a fight. “Wanna know a secret?”
Cerulean blue eyes open up to meet yours. “I like how pretty you look under me. The way your eyes gloss over and your lips part.” His hooded eyes watch as you continue to bounce on him. “But the best part is the way you moan.” The tip of his dick nudges your g-spot with each movement. “Oh fuck, star” His eyes are on your face now watching your lips move. “Just like that.” Your eyes flutter close as you can feel your orgasm building. “Fuck Rafe, just like that.” That seemed to break him from his little spell. His left arm reaches up, tangling his fingers in your hair to pull you down. Your lips smash onto his as he attempts to steal the oxygen from your lungs.
Your nails claw into his shirt as you try to pull away as your lungs scream for air. Using his leverage on your hair, Rafe pulls your head back to kiss your neck. “Gonna cum.” You moan out a yes as he starts meeting your movements with his own thrusts. It’s only when he fills you up and your orgasim hits you that you realize he was warning you. He wasn’t asking if you would cum but telling you he was.
The two of you catch your breaths before relaxing. You rest your head on his shoulder as he wraps you in his arms. It’s quiet besides your breaths echoing in the car. The phone is probably still recording or not who knows. “Star.” You pull your head up to look at him. His eyes look serious but there’s a lazily smile spread across his face. “You didn’t have to worry about those girls.” You sit up and try to move off of him only to be stopped. “It was stup-” “Not interested in anyone else. So you don’t have to worry.”
You freeze not knowing what to say. There’s a mess of cum between the both of you and you think of the only logical response. “We should probably get cleaned up.” His jaw clicks for a second then disappears. “Yeah, the food should be done also.” This feels awkward now. Unspoken words fill the air as you try to calm your nerves. “I’m not interested in anyone else either.” His eye’s flicker to yours and back to the windshield. “Just so you know.” This time his eyes stay on you and you can’t help but to smile.
Fuck whatever is happening right now definitely changes things. “Good.”
☾☾☾☾☾
“You know I kinda like having you in my bed all the time.” He whispered into your ear before moving to kiss and bite at your neck. Ever since you had to share a room because Wheezie is in yours, it's like the two of you are wired. You are aware of all of his movements and you are just craving to feel him inside you. Rafe was no better. That man has made so many excuse to run to the store with you just so he can fuck you. Maybe fucking him in the car was a bad idea.
It’s now turned into the hookup spot.
Wheezie has probably caught on but the two of you do not want to sleep together with her in the next room. That was a hard line for the both of you. “Just five minutes.” You huff as his hands find the inside of your shirt. “Wheezie is still asleep.” His lips move back up the other side of your neck to find your lips again. “Just kissing.” He says in between each kiss. You pull away giggling because he sounds crazy. “You can’t be serious.” You let out another set of giggles. “What happened to good old making out?”
You watch him for a second and determine he is being serious. His eyebrows are set in a furrow as if he can’t believe you’re questioning him. Lowering back down, you kiss him. “Okay.” Turns out five minutes was a lie. He kept you there for as long as he could. Sometimes his hands would roam a little too much and you had to correct him. But you were almost late for your meeting with Liz.
“Cancel, I'm sure she’d get it.” His chin is resting on your shoulder as you apply your makeup. “She’s already pissed about having to fix the shooting times. I’m not going to keep pushing it.” Liz was not happy when you told her Wheezie was staying with you. She was happy she felt safe there but it messed up shooting days. Thankfully Rafe still has his apartment so the two of you found a way to get her to stay there.
“Just for a few hours then we’ll get you.” Wheezie looks at her brother suspiciously. “So why do I have to leave? Having an orgy or something?” You laugh as Rafe shakes his head. “Jesus, Wheeze no. Having some work down in the basement and it’ll be loud.” She gets up, shrugging her shoulders as she makes her way to her room. “You don’t have to lie. I don’t care.”
She makes a weird look but doesn’t go further. “Care about what? We aren’t lying.” She just waves him off. “Nevermind.” You wait until she walks into the room and looks at him. “She so knows.” He argued back saying there’s no possible way but you know you’re right.
As you drive to your meeting you wonder how Wheezie must feel being around all of this. After arguing with Rafe you went to talk about it with her. Turns out some girls at school told her about Rafe’s job. Going as far as sending videos around the girls in her grade. She says she doesn’t care that he does it. You keep worrying even as Liz tries to talk to you about the next shoot.
“What’s got you all twisted?” Liz takes a sip of her diet coke, staring you dead in the eyes. “Just worried about Wheeze. She knows about all of this.” She sets down her drink and picks up her fork to push some food around. “She’s a teenager, she knows about sex babe. Plus she’s always known.” Your eyes widen. “What?” You take a bite of your burger just to keep yourself occupied. “She called the offices one day. Must have found out and was looking for him. Didn’t think he’d want her knowing so I never said anything.”
You nod, agreeing that he wouldn’t want that. “Okay enough of me worrying. Explain the next shoot again.” Liz explains as the two of you eat. “We’ll make sure to clean up before we leave so you can use the room again.” You give her a look of confusion. “That is where you are sleeping right?” The way she says it tells you she already knows the answer but wants you to confirm. “Um I’ve been actually staying in Rafe’s room.”
She sighs and leans back in her chair. “I don’t think” Her words die off as she stares off to the side of you. “Beth?” It’s said mostly to herself but it must have caught the person’s attention. “Liz?” A girl around your age appears and engulfs her in a hug. A stroller sits next to you with a baby a couple months old in it. He’s cute with his nose all scrunched up. “Did you become a nanny after you quit?”
The woman you assume is Beth shakes her head. “No, this is my son Max.” She pushes the stroller forward so she could show Liz. Her eyes meet yours and she sticks a hand out. “Hi I’m Beth. Do you work for Liz? I was there for a while but you know.” She jokingly nods her head to the sleepy baby boy. You tell her your name and say how you’re just starting out.
“She’s a star. If you were still working there you’d have real competition.” Beth laughs at Liz’s joke. “Yeah right. I was okay. People only liked my video’s with Rafe.” Your ears perk up at the mention of the boy occupying your brain. “You worked with Rafe.” She nods but there’s this look in her eyes you can’t place. “Yeah, have you gotten to work with him yet?” Liz tries to steer the conversation away but the way Beth looks at you makes you answer.
“We are doing a series right now. I’ve only gotten to work with him since I started.” Beth scrunches her face and looks over at Liz. The older lady averts her eyes, playing with her napkin. You’ve never seen her like this. Based on how she acted with Beth you guess this is the girl she wished never left the studio. “Oh I.” She shifts her gaze back and forth for a moment.
“I should probably get going. It was really good to see you again Liz.” She gives Liz a hug goodbye and moves to you. “Nice meeting you. I hope to see you around. Tell Rafe I say hi the next time you see him.” You help her gather her things as she had set some things down. “I can tell him you’re in town when I get home. Do you want me to give him your number?” Liz stares at you in shock as the words fly out of your mouth.
You don’t know why you said it. Maybe the masochistic part of you wants him to prove that you can’t trust him. That he was lying when he said he didn’t want anyone else. Liz, Jared, and Rafe have all alluded to Beth yet refuse to tell you anything about her. Deep down you already know the answer. But the other part of you wants him to show you that he did mean it. It’s dumb to even try and set this up but you can’t help it.
“Oh um no it’s okay. We haven't talked in a long time. I left pretty early on in his career. Plus I don’t think he’d want to talk to me.” She leaves once she is done dropping the most alluring sentence. “Why wouldn’t he want to talk to her?” Liz flags the waiter down for the check and just hands over the card to speed up the process. “I don’t know.” She may be able to put up a good front but you see through it. “Did something happen between them?”
“Let’s just say the two of you aren’t so different.”
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Your hair is all over your face from the sudden movement and the sheets hanging off the bed are slightly moving. His eyes stay on you as he walks closer. “Your order for chinese food.”
mhm mhm rafe you know things
“Let’s just say the two of you aren’t so different.”
omg nooo
the fact that Wheezie knows it's like illegal HAHAHA
rafe x needy!reader? they’ve already gone at it once but she cannot get enough… she feels like she physically can’t stop
if you’re not comfortable with writing this then just ignore it!! :) thank youu
— bf!rafe fucking needy!reader
warnings — p in v, thigh riding, petnames, reader being needy, lewd language
the tangled sheets are damp beneath you, clinging uncomfortably to your overheated skin. rafe lies beside you, chest rising and falling heavily, eyes closed, looking utterly spent. you just came, a shuddering, messy climax that should have left you satiated, maybe even borderline numb after the hours you've already spent fucking each other.
but it didn't.
rafe sighs, shifting slightly, his arm brushing against yours. even that fleeting contact sends a jolt through you. without thinking, you reach out, fingers tracing the line of sweat down his ribs, sliding lower toward his limp cock.
he cracks an eye open, looking at you through heavy lids, a mixture of exhaustion and faint surprise on his face. "jesus, baby," he murmurs, his voice rough, thick with sleep and exertion. "still going? thought that last round finally killed you."
you shake your head silently, unable to articulate the relentless need clawing at you. you shift closer, lifting yourself off the bed before lowering your core to his thigh, seeking the familiar heat and hardness, even though you know he must be soft now, spent. your hand finds him, closing around his length. he stirs slightly under your touch.
"baby, come on," rafe sighs, trying to gently push your hand away. "m'fucking exhausted, let's go to bed, yeah?"
"no," you whisper the word desperate, raw. you push his hand away, resuming your ministrations with more urgency, needing to feel him harden again. "please, rafey. i need more." it feels shameful, this relentless craving, but you need this. your body feels hollow, aching, incomplete without him filling you up.
"fuck, you're relentless," he murmurs, but he stops resisting your touch. his cock begins to stir, thickening slowly under your insistent hand. he reaches out, pulling you on top of him, settling you onto his hips. even half-hard, the pressure against your entrance is agonisingly good.
"ride me, baby" he commands softly, his hands finding your waist, guiding your initial desperate movements. "ride this fuckin' cock."
you obey instantly, grinding down, using your own slickness and desperate friction to coax him back to full hardness. it doesn't take long. the need radiating off you seems to fuel him, bypassing his exhaustion. he watches you, hands gripping your hips tightly, letting you set the pace this time.
you lift your hips high, then slam back down onto his cock, seeking the deepest penetration possible. sweat beads on your forehead, dripping down between your breasts, mirroring the sheen on his own skin. your hair sticks to your temples, your breathing coming in ragged, almost panicked gasps. it's not just pleasure driving you; it's something closer to desperation, a physical craving that borders on pain.
"easy, doll," rafe murmurs, his voice still rough but losing some of its earlier exhaustion, replaced by a growing intensity as he watches you unravel above him. his thumb snakes to your clit, rubbing slow circles lazily. "you’re gonna tire yourself out."
but you can't slow down. the friction feels good, incredible even, but it's not enough. it doesn't touch that core ache. you whine softly, a frustrated sound, leaning forward, bracing your hands on his chest, trying to find a better angle, a deeper connection. his muscles tense beneath your palms.
he groans low in his throat, his own control starting to fray under your relentless assault. his hips begin to lift off the mattress, meeting your downward thrusts, adding his power to yours. the shift is subtle but significant. he's no longer just letting you ride; he's participating, drawn back into the fire by your sheer, consuming need.
"fuck, you feel so good," he grits out, his eyes darkening as he watches your face contort with effort and building pleasure. "pussy's so fuckin' tight and warm… y'gonna cum for me, angel?"
"f-fuck yes, mmhhh," you cry out, riding him impossibly harder, faster.
"that's it," rafe encourages, his voice strained now, hands gripping your hips tighter, almost bruisingly. "cum f'me again. show me how much y'need this cock."
his words, combined with the powerful thrust of his hips meeting yours, finally tip you over. the orgasm hit with staggering force, more intense than any of the previous ones, fuelled by hours of build-up and sheer desperation. it rips through you, stealing your breath, making you cry out loud, a raw, keening sound. your body convulses violently around him, clamping down hard, milking every last drop of him.
he roars beneath you, his own release triggered by the intensity of yours, coating your walls with his warm seed. you collapse onto his chest, utterly boneless this time, trembling uncontrollably, spent in a way that feels deeper, more complete than before. his arms wrap around you, holding you tight against his slick, heaving chest. for a long moment, the only sound is the harsh rasp of your combined breathing. the ache is still there, a faint echo beneath the overwhelming tide of release.
"that's it," rafe encourages, his voice strained now, hands gripping your hips tighter, almost bruisingly. "cum f'me again. show me how much y'need this cock."
