Mar 14
But I bеt we'd have really good bеd chem How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round
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But I bеt we'd have really good bеd chem How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round
come right on me, i mean camaraderie...
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𝓒amaraderie
Warnings: hookup, swearing, overstimulation, size kink, Rafe is hung, praise kink, calling him Sir (once)
Word Count: 2.4k
The night you met Rafe wasn’t like any other. You’d been dragged out of the comfort of your tiny two-bedroom apartment for some avant-garde event held by your best friend’s parents. Kiara’s parents are loaded, not that she spoke of it outside of nights like these. She’s humble, too prideful for help, but she knows you have a dream to make it in architecture, and for you, she’ll pull any string to get you to the top.
So there you stood. In a yellow little slip dress, carefully woven with artisanal fabric and embedded with tiny Swarovski crystals that glittered in the lowlight like a disco ball.
At some point in the night, Kiara disappeared, most likely to spread your name around the room like a living legend among aristocrats.
You stand by the drinks, sipping from a glass of chardonnay that tastes like it’s the same price as your rent. People’s eyes run across your outfit as they pass by, assessing your endeavors through style alone. You shift, hips swaying side to side as you try to find a comfortable, confident stance. Anything that says, ‘Talk to me, I’m successful’
Then he shows up.
Rafe Cameron, looking stoic as ever, with sharp eyes and a focused frown. He doesn’t look angry or brooding, no, he looks untouchable. It’s when your shoulders tense that his eyes meet yours. For a fleeting moment, his face seems to soften, the air around him shifting from business-casual to intriguing familiarity. You didn’t expect him to walk up to you, in his tailored suit and shiny black shoes and that gold ring glinting on his finger.
“Kiara’s friend?” he asks with a curious smile. “Yeah!” you smile back smaller, flattered to have someone as powerful as Rafe Cameron recognize you. He holds out a hand for you to shake, his large palm enclosing your smaller one like a snake around prey. “Nice to meet you, sweetheart.” Your smile grows a bit brighter, his term of endearment settling over you like a warm blanket. Snug, comfy, and so right. You forget to reply, but he’s already on to the next topic.
“What are you here for?” he asks, looking around like he’s searching for someone. Your eyes remain on his face, too handsome to tear away from. “Uhm, business.”
“Yeah?” Rafe’s eyes meet yours with a raised brow. “For what?” your eyes meet the floor for a second, suddenly hesitant to share your passion with the man. “Architectural design.”
“Oh, so you’re into making things look all pretty and cohesive?” he asks with a newfound interest, which catches you off guard. “Mhm.” you hum, nodding with more security in your stance. “Maybe you can help design the new house I just bought on The Cut.”
Your face scrunches in confusion, your mind trying to catch up with what your ears picked up. “The Cut?”
“Yep.” Rafe nods. “Bought one of those little shacks. Hoping to flip it, get some gullible rich kid to buy it, then let everyone around town know that The Cut is the new Figure Eight.” he explains. The first thought to cross your mind was JJ. Then Kiara. Kiara would be pissed if she found out.
“Oh.” you murmur, and on cue, Kiara spots you. She stands by your side, shooting Rafe a glare before turning her attention to you. “I spoke with Topper’s mom,” she says to you. “They’re remodeling the entire first floor of their house and want your input.”
Your breath hitches, excitement and nerves racing through your veins with the opportunity. “Really?” you ask, almost breathless. You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. It’s only an offer. But an offer with a family as respected as the Thorntons could change your life if you play the cards right. “Yeah, she wants to talk to you.” Kie nods, trying to pull you by the wrist in the direction of Topper’s mother. You catch sight of her, standing there all pompous while chatting up some other rich woman.
You stay in place, remembering Rafe who’s still there quietly watching. “Wait.” you stop Kie. “What?” her face scrunches, eyes darting between you and Rafe. Her mind was already placing the pieces together, knowing instantly that something was going on. “Dude…” she mumbles, giving you a disbelieving look. “Just a moment, please.” you tilt your head. Her nostrils flare with controlled annoyance, but she steps back. “Hurry.” she turns, marching over to the women to keep them occupied.
“I’ve gotta go too.” Rafe’s voice rings out, making your head whip around to look at him with a few blinks. Was he already blowing you off? “Okay, yeah.” you nod, playing it cool though your stomach twists. “What’s your number?” Rafe asks, sounding a little too excited. “For the job, I mean.” he adds, saving face.
Two nights pass with nothing from Rafe, but it doesn’t cross your mind. You’ve been too wrapped up in work, Kiara and JJ’s fights, and speaking with the Thorntons. When you finally have a moment to yourself, in a bubble bath with candles lit and a book in your hand, your phone pings. Thinking it’s one of your friends, you pick up your phone from its place on the edge of the tub, jolting and nearly dropping it when you see the name.
Rafe Cameron
Hey, y/n. It’s Rafe.
You quickly send a text back, fingers trembling with electricity. From nerves or exhilaration, you’re not sure.
You
Hey! How are you?
You send back, and it feels lame. Too giddy. God, why’d you have to put the exclamation mark?
Rafe Cameron
I’m doing good.
He shoots back. You tilt your head, watching as the chat bubbles appear then disappear again.
Rafe Cameron
Look, I know it’s late and this is probably wildly inappropriate, but do you want to maybe come over?
You stare at the screen, feeling frozen in time despite how hot the water is surrounding you.
Rafe Cameron
We could watch a movie.
He adds, and you wonder if he’s just as nervous.
You
Yes, I’ll come over. A movie sounds fun :)
You leave the text open-ended on purpose. To see if he’ll push the line between work and romance.
Rafe Cameron
I’ll send you my address. ;)
So he does.
Within twenty-five minutes, no more, no less, you’re driving to Rafe’s house. You drown out your thoughts with music, the playlist an eclectic mix of rap and indie, but it’s enough to keep your nerves at bay. There is one recurring thought, however, that you can’t escape.
Like what if Rafe has a really big dick? Oh, who are you kidding, of course he does.
𐂯 ⁰ᨵᩥ⁰ 𐂯
When you arrive at his place, you sit in your car overthinking. Your finger hovers over the ‘Here!’ text, like a wedding vow to a man you’re not ready to commit to. Three minutes turn to four then tick to eight as you keep your head against the steering wheel, foot tapping against the floorboard anxiously.
Then a knock on your driver’s side window makes you jump, managing to hit the horn which makes him jump next. You cover your mouth in amused embarrassment, rolling down your window as Rafe grins at you with the shake of his head.
“How long have you been here?” he asks smoothly.
“Uhh,” you glance at the time on your phone, debating if it’d be cooler to lie or cuter to tell the truth.
“Five minutes..?” you reply unassuredly, expecting Rafe to call you out and say he’d been watching you on his security cameras.
“Sure ya have.” he mutters, looking toward his front door before his eyes meet yours again with a teasing glint. “What are you waitin’ on? Let’s go.” he says, opening your car door before you can even unbuckle.
Rafe spots the duffel bag in your passenger when you climb out of your SUV. His eyes narrow, flickering down to you with faux-suspicion. “You stayin’ the night, sweetheart?”
Your eyes widen, embarrassment flushing your face. “Uhhh…”
He grins, a huff fracturing the tension in the air as he reaches over to grab it for you. “I’m messing with ya.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, “Mean-ass.” you mutter under your breath, noticing the way his shirt lifts just barely before he stands up straight.
Rafe leads you inside, telling you to sit tight while he runs your bag upstairs. While he’s gone, you look around, getting a feel for his place.
There’s a rustic coffee table, grey-black couch, and brick-built fireplace with a flat screen above it. Each piece comes together to create a dark but cozy living space. The spacious area feels like it has bits of Rafe’s soul embedded into everything, including the walls.
Everything about his home so far eases your mind.
“Maybe this won’t be terrible after all.” you mutter out loud by accident. “What was that?” Rafe’s voice carries down the stairs. Your head whips around with a shy smile. “Nothing!” you walk closer, meeting him at the end of the staircase.
The corner of Rafe’s mouth pulls upward into one of those little smiles of his. “Want to order takeout and watch that movie?” he suggests, but his eyes are hungry. You can see how he’s keeping himself together.
“Maybe that can wait.” you slowly wrap your arms around his neck, feeling emboldened by his obvious need for you.
𐂯 ⁰ᨵᩥ⁰ 𐂯
Rafe’s thick cock sinks deep into your pussy, forcing your cunt to spread to accommodate his size. “It’s too big!” your head falls back with a moan.
“You can handle it, Sweetheart.” he murmurs, taking a sharp breath as he feels your cushiony walls squeezing him, making his dick throb. “Fuck, you feel so good.” he groans, pulling out slowly, causing you to whine at the empty feeling.
He pressed deeper the next time he entered, his pelvis meeting yours with a slowly building rhythm.
“It feels so good—“ you begin to say, gasping as he hits your cervix. “Rafe!” you cry, dragging your nails down his back as he speeds up. “Let me hear it, baby.” he picks up your legs, holding them in the air so he can hit deeper in your leaking warmth.
“Faster, fuck!— Go faster, Rafe!” you beg, feeling your legs tremble and pussy trying to tighten around him already.
He lets out small grunts, his jawline sharp and teeth gritted against themselves as he fucks you deeper.
“Tell me how good my dick feels, baby.” he commands roughly, folding your legs over and laying his body over yours. His weight on top of you makes his dick feel so much bigger, and your pussy even tighter than before. The sensation of his veiny cock twitching inside your hole leaves your head feeling foggy.
“Sooo good!!” you mewl, feeling his thrusts grow sloppier against you. Rafe takes a sharp breath, letting your legs drop as he holds himself up over you. Your breasts bounce in tandem with his harsh movements while pretty cries fall from your lips.
“Your body is fuckin’ perfect, Angel.” he grits, his lip twitching into a snarl as he presses deeper. “So sexy.”
Your mouth falls open with strangled gasps, legs wrapping around his hips and bucking back up into him. Rafe groans, his head dropping to your shoulder while his hips grow tired from the effort. “Can I cum in you?” he whispers in your ear, sounding like he’s on the verge of breaking. You nod, unable to think clearly. “Please.”
Rafe pumps his length in and out of you a few more times, deep and slow until he releases inside of you. He continues rutting against you, biting his lip as he watches your body shake with your orgasm.
He collapses on top of you, rolling off and pulling you on top. “Ride me, Princess.” he says, out of breath. You climb on top to straddle Rafe, slipping him back inside. His hands go to your hips, while yours find his chest. You start steady, letting your body readjust to his size.
“You fill me up so good.” you breathe, rutting your hips against him. Rafe groans, wrapping his big hands around your thighs.
He keeps you in place as your hips roll against his, forcing you to take him all the way. “Best pussy I’ve ever had.” he tells you through a half-lidded gaze. “Are you about to cum, sir?” you ask with a cheeky smile.
He chuckles, the sound rough with lust. “I’m getting there, Doll.”
A few more steady bounces on top of him leave you leaning back, feeling his tip tapping your cervix. It’s enough to make you throw your head back in pleasure, sweet noises filling the quiet room.
You speed up your movements, feeling your pussy squeeze his thick cock with a vice grip. One of Rafe’s hands leaves your thigh, reaching up to cup your tit with a delicate squeeze. “Fuck, that’s so good.” he whispers, exhaling through his nose as his orgasm builds.
You lean forward, grasping the headboard as you move with urgency. Your thighs tremble, muscles twitching from overexertion. Rafe’s hands slide up to your ass, his fingers sinking in with a bruising grip.
Your moans grow louder as your stomach grows warmer, the knot in it twisting tighter with each twitch of Rafe’s cock. He bites back groans, his nose scrunching as his dick throbs for release.
“Rafe- fuck- fuck- I need you!” you babble, feeling your body start to give up. “Cum for me. Cum all on my dick, Angel.” he groans, lifting his hips to buck into you. You bury your face in his neck, calling out his name as you finish all over his length. Rafe’s orgasm follows soon after, his member pumping a sticky load deep inside your abused cunt.
He stays inside of you, wrapping his sweaty arms around you and kissing your cheek. “You did so good for me.” he says lowly in your ear. The words barely make it past the sound of ringing in your ears. “I loved that.” you nuzzle your face into his shoulder, struggling to keep your eyes open.
“How about we go for round three in the morning, hm?” he looks down at you softly. Your eyes open just enough to see the flush of his cheeks and thin layer of sweat on his face. “Mhm.” you hum noncommittally, feeling his hand run up and down your back lazily. You relax into his touch, listening to the soft sound of his breathing. The room and earlier moments slip away from your drowsy mind as sleepiness wins the war over you.
Where art thou? Why not uponeth me? SABRINA CARPENTER performing Bed Chem at the 2025 BRIT Awards
⋆𐙚Really good Bed Chem.
Saja boys x Girlfriend!Reader.
Words count : 940.
"But I bet we'd have really good bed chem"
Another member of the Saja boys catches you and your boyfriend in the middle of your "bed session".
(SMUT!!!)
Posted by @sweetgothpeach
Bad Idea
Soldier boy x Fem!Reader
(Tension-heavy, dominant Soldier Boy, inexperienced reader, power reveal, strong chemistry, NSFW, suggested themes)
Short n Sweet Masterlist
The first thing you noticed about Soldier Boy was that he looked like he didn’t want to be there.
Everyone else at the Vought party glittered.
You didn’t.
Well—technically you did. Your dress shimmered under the lights, soft pink and carefully chosen by a team that never asked what you liked. Your heels pinched. Your smile had been rehearsed.
But him?
He stood off to the side like he’d rather set the whole place on fire than make conversation. Drink in hand. Eyes half-lidded. Completely unimpressed.
You stared too long.
“Stay close,” Ashley hissed beside you, her grip tight on your arm. “Do not wander. Do not improvise. Just smile.”
You nodded.
You lasted three minutes.
Because you felt it.
Not saw. Not thought.
Felt.
Like something in your chest pulled—sharp and curious and certain.
Your gaze snapped back to him.
He was already looking at you.
Oh.
Oh.
You smiled—bright, immediate, a little too eager—and slipped out of Ashley’s grasp before she could stop you.
“Hi.”
He didn’t answer right away. Just looked down at you, slow, assessing, like he was trying to figure out what category to put you in.
“…Hi,” he said finally, flat.
Up close, he was worse.
Better.
Stronger. Broader. The kind of presence that filled space without trying.
You rocked slightly on your heels, hands clasped behind your back. “You look like you hate it here.”
“I do.”
“That’s fair.” You nodded, completely serious. “It’s really loud. And fake. And the lighting is kind of aggressive.”
That got a reaction.
Small. But there.
His brow twitched. “You always talk this much?”
“Only when I’m interested.”
There it was again—that look.
Sharper now.
“Yeah?” he said. “And what exactly are you interested in?”
You tilted your head, studying him openly. “You.”
Silence.
Not awkward.
Heavy.
“I just—” you gestured vaguely between you, smiling a little softer now, “I have this feeling. Like… we’d get along really well.”
His jaw shifted.
“That so.”
“Mhm.” You leaned in just a little, lowering your voice like it was a secret. “Like really well.”
Something flickered behind his eyes then.
Not dismissal.
Not annoyance.
Something darker.
You felt it click into place.
—
He should’ve walked away.
He didn’t.
—
“Don’t you have a handler or something?” he asked after a beat, glancing over your shoulder.
“Oh—yeah.” You waved a hand. “Ashley. But she gets stressed easily.”
“Yeah. I can see why.”
You laughed.
He watched you.
Too closely.
“So,” you said, rocking back on your heels again, “do you want to come over?”
That landed.
Hard.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “You just invite strange men back to your place?”
“You’re not strange,” you said immediately.
A pause.
“…You’re you.”
That wasn’t better.
And yet—
He exhaled through his nose, something almost like a quiet laugh. “You got no sense of self-preservation, do you?”
“I do,” you said. “I just don’t think you’d hurt me.”
Another look.
Longer this time.
Like he was testing that.
“Yeah?” he murmured.
“Yeah.” You smiled again, softer now. Certain. “I just know.”
—
Your apartment was exactly what he expected.
And still—
“What the hell…” he muttered under his breath as he stepped inside.
Pink.
Everything pink.
Soft lighting. Plush textures. Clean. Controlled. Like a dollhouse.
Like you.
You shut the door behind him, turning with a small, pleased smile. “Do you like it?”
He looked at you.
Then around again.
“…It’s something.”
“That means no.”
“It means I don’t get it.”
“That’s okay.” You stepped closer, unbothered. “You don’t have to.”
You were close now.
Closer than before.
And you didn’t stop.
He noticed that.
Of course he did.
“You always this friendly?” he asked, voice lower now.
“Not really.”
“Then what’s this?”
You tipped your chin up, meeting his gaze without hesitation.
“I told you,” you said softly. “I have a feeling.”
His hand came up before you even realized it—fingers brushing your chin, tilting your face just slightly.
Testing.
You didn’t pull away.
Didn’t even flinch.
Just watched him.
Curious.
Open.
God.
“…You don’t know what you’re doing,” he muttered.
“Then show me.”
That did it.
Whatever restraint he had left snapped.
He moved fast—hand firm at your waist, pulling you in, your back hitting the edge of the bed as your breath caught.
But you didn’t panic.
Didn’t resist.
If anything—
You leaned into it.
Your arms came up around him, fingers brushing his shoulders, then higher—your eyes lighting up slightly.
“I like your beard,” you said, completely sincere.
He stared at you.
For half a second.
Then he laughed—low, disbelieving—and the sound of it sent something sharp down your spine.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Mhm.”
“You got a thing for bad decisions, sweetheart?”
You smiled.
“Maybe.”
—
The shift after that was immediate.
The teasing edge dropped.
What replaced it was heavier.
Slower.
Intentional.
He didn’t rush.
That was the thing you hadn’t expected.
Every movement was deliberate. Controlled. Like he was watching you as much as touching you—learning your reactions, your sounds, the way you responded to him.
And you—
You reacted to everything.
Too much, maybe.
But you couldn’t help it.
Everything felt new. Overwhelming in the best way. Your fingers gripping his shirt, your breath catching, your head tipping back as your body tried to keep up with sensations you didn’t have words for.
“That’s it,” he murmured at one point, voice rougher now. “Just like that.”
You didn’t know what you were doing.
But somehow—
It worked.
For both of you.
—
It built.
Slow at first.
Then faster.
Then—
Too much.
The feeling hit you all at once, sharp and consuming, your body tensing as something inside you snapped—
The lights flickered.
The walls trembled.
Something cracked—loud, sudden.
You gasped—
And the entire room shuddered.
—
He stilled.
For exactly one second.
Then his grip tightened.
And he smiled.
Not soft.
Not surprised.
Something darker.
“Yeah…” he muttered, almost to himself. “There it is.”
You barely had time to process it before he moved again—firmer now, more certain, like he’d just figured something out.
The room trembled again.
And this time—
He didn’t slow down.
—
After—
Everything felt quiet.
Too quiet.
You were sprawled across your bed, breathing uneven, your head resting against his shoulder without thinking.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t leave.
Which surprised you.
A little.
Your fingers traced absent patterns against his arm, soft, curious.
“…That was good,” you said after a moment.
He huffed a quiet laugh.
“Yeah,” he said. “It was.”
You tilted your head, looking up at him.
Smiling.
Soft. Content.
Like this was the most natural thing in the world.
Something in his expression shifted.
Just slightly.
—
Morning came slower than expected.
Warm.
Quiet.
You stirred first.
Then him.
Your eyes opened at the same time.
And for a second—
Neither of you moved.
Then you smiled.
Like nothing had changed.
Like everything had.
Your hand came up, fingers brushing his jaw gently, tilting his face toward yours.
“Hi,” you murmured.
He watched you.
Carefully.
Closely.
Like he still hadn’t decided what you were.
You didn’t wait.
You leaned in and kissed him again—soft, easy, certain.
And this time—
He didn’t hesitate at all.
Bed Chem | s.reid x fem!reader
summary: Derek Morgan hits you up for you and Spencer Reid, a genius FBI agent, to connect. One things leads to another, and you both have really good bed chem.
warnings: 18+, mdni, nsfw, drinking at a bar, p in v, unprotected sex, softdom!spencer, sub!reader, use of y/n, spencer comes in reader (if im forgetting something let me know)
word count: 3.2k
authors note: felt like its been 20 years since i've posted a fic, but here ya guys go!! i love the song bed chem, so this fic is sabrina carpenter themed💋. i don't really like this, but its been sitting in my drafts for a while now so i hope you guys enjoy(the smut isnt my best work im sorry!). if you did, just remember to like and reblog:)!
Spencer Reid wasn’t the type to go to bars, but when the team had finally wrapped up a particularly exhausting case and a few of them decided to head out for a drink, he couldn’t exactly say no. He didn’t mind spending time with his colleagues, but when the plan shifted from the corner booth to the bar, he felt his nerves start to rise.
Derek Morgan had a gift for getting people out of their comfort zones, and today, he’d decided that Spencer was due for a little socialization.
SABRINA CARPENTER Bed Chem | Lollapalooza Chile